Harry Potter and the Twinkle-Eyed Headmaster
by author422
Summary: A baby arrives on the doorstep of the Dursleys, with a letter. A spell is cast on the Dursleys, their house, and on Privet Drive. A certain twinkle-eyed headmaster seems suspicious, and behind all of the troubles and woe of one Mr. Harry Potter's life. Will taking control of Harry Potter turn out to be his downfall? Or will Harry Potter be destined to die as one of his pawns?
1. Prologue

Harry Potter and the Twinkle-Eyed Headmaster

_Prologue_

_Mrs. Dursley opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, and stifled a scream, as she saw that the front doorstep was occupied by a basket that was full of a bundle of blankets. Soft, black hair rose from the other end of it, and Mrs. Dursley's eyes traveled down in curiosity to the bright green eyes that were looking at her sleepily. Petunia Dursley froze. _Those were her dear sister's eyes,_ she thought. _But this must be her baby! _She mentally shrieked. She looked down the street, both ways. Petunia was worried. _Poor dear_, she thought._

_She started to pick up the basket carefully, when she noticed a crisp, white envelope, tucked in one of the folds of the blue and white plaid blankets. She carried the basket that held her baby nephew within, inside the house, and set it gently on the dining table. She plucked the envelope from the folds, slit it open, and didn't even start reading the first sentence, when a black mist rose up from the envelope, and surrounded Mrs. Dursley, the whole house, and the neighborhood that the Dursleys lived in._

_The baby with the green eyes started bawling at the top of his lungs, and his eyes welled with tears. The baby's name was Harry; it said so on the little silver plaque engraved on the basket. Harry's hair grew even more tousled than it was before, as he started moving around in the basket. His small, soft hands balled into tiny fists that he shook at the ceiling, as if he was threatening someone far away that he couldn't reach. A lock of smooth, black hair slid to the side of his forehead, and a thin red cut that was shaped like a lightning bolt was revealed. _It looked rather recent, and like something freakish that only a freak like her sister would wear_, thought Mrs. Dursley, as she got up from the floor slowly. She had fainted, when the black mist surrounded her. She quickly read the letter, and grimaced. She looked at the baby with distaste, but the thought of being paid 5000 pounds a month to take care of a baby, was satisfying. She quickly got a small tin of baby food from the shelf in the kitchen, a tiny baby spoon, and she hurriedly shoved the food into baby Harry's mouth. After he was done, Mrs. Dursley took the basket, opened the door under the stairs, put Harry inside, turned on a nearby lamp, so the baby wouldn't annoy them with his cries, and shut the door. _

_Somewhere in Scotland, in a castle lit with luminescent lights, up the stairs, and behind a door that was guarded by a gargoyle, a white-bearded headmaster was chuckling to himself, a dangerous glint in his eyes._


	2. Chapter 1

AN: There's a poll on my profile. Where do you want Harry to be sorted? I can do any house; the only hard ones will be Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Wherever Harry goes, the head of house will be Harry's mentor, for his special abilities. Like animagus, wand less magic, and etc. Harry's true friends, in this story, are Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. They'll be going wherever Harry is going. Ron and Hermione are Dumbledore's pawns, and they'll be going in Slytherin, wherever Harry goes, unless he's in Gryffindor, then they'll be in Gryffindor with him. All the Weasleys are in Twinkle Eyes' pocket, which means they're going to be bashed, except Fred and George. They'll always have a place in my heart. They'll be in Ravenclaw, because they're clever enough to think up all those products and pranks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter 1: The Strange Letter

A few years passed. The sun rose quietly, but steadily, its sunlight creeping over the Dursley's rosebushes and lighting up the brass doorknob on their front door. The golden rays of light shone through the windows, and specks of dust would've risen into the air, if a neat freak known as Mrs. Petunia Dursley didn't live there with her husband and her small son. Or rather, large son. Her son, known as Dudley, or, Duddykins to his mother, was bigger than any _normal_-sized baby. It was ironic, since the Dursley family couldn't stand anything that was abnormal, nor could the neighborhood they lived in, for that matter.

On that note, the Dursleys had something, or rather, _someone _that made them more abnormal than all of their neighbors combined. He was currently sleeping under the stairs, in a cupboard, to be exact, a most dreadful place, always filled with spiders, as it is, and he was only about ten years old, going on eleven. Imagine that, eh? For a family that tries so very hard to be _normal_, they do a rather poor job of it. I must say, I do like the word 'rather'. You'll hear it quite often, I suppose. Anyway, the boy under the stairs was sleeping peacefully, an unusual thing, seeing as he looked half-starved, with his baggy clothes and pale complexion. There was no way of avoiding it. The boy was being abused, even if it wasn't blows and hits and punches. It seemed to be more of a verbal and mental abuse, but abuse all the same. And to imagine that the family wishes rather desperately (there it is again!) to be _normal_.

The boy awoke with a start, as Mrs. Dursley started rapping at the door with her knuckles, saying in a shrill voice, "Up you get! It's my darling's birthday today, and don't you dare burn the bacon! Return to your cupboard after breakfast. We don't need his special day spoiled by _your filthy presence_." The boy answered, "Yes, Aunt Petunia." His aunt sniffed haughtily, and said, "Good," in a finalizing tone. Her footsteps faded away outside the door. The boy rolled onto his back, shifting a bit on the lumpy mattress, and stared blankly at the ceiling of his cupboard. (Which he could reach, if he stretched his arm to its full length.) '_How could you have forgotten Dudley's birthday?'_ he mentally scolded himself. His eyelashes lowered over his bright green eyes sadly. He shook his head, as if shaking away his thoughts and a lock of his messy black hair slipped away from his forehead. A scar that was shaped like a lightning bolt was etched there. This boy was, of course, Harry.

Harry looked at the door of his cupboard, and with a hollow sigh, he pushed himself off the mattress, opened the door, and headed towards the kitchen.

When he reached the kitchen, his aunt and uncle were fussing over his abnormally large cousin. "How many presents are there?" demanded the pig, I mean, (ahem) Dudley. "Thirty-six," said his father, who winked at him. "Counted them myself." Dudley's face grew red; a danger sign that was practically flashing in neon letters to his parents and Harry. Harry quickly slid the bacon from the frying pan, onto his plate, hoping that the pig, I mean, Dudley, would be distracted.

It worked; Dudley looked down, having noticed the crispy and slightly burnt bacon. He quickly started gobbling it up, and during that, his mother quickly said, "And we're going to buy you _two new presents_ while we're out. How's that, pumpkin?" Dudley's brow furrowed, and he swallowed with a huge effort. "That would be… err…" His mother said fondly, "Thirty-eight, sweetums." Dudley nodded to himself in satisfaction. Harry had just sat down, when his uncle started on him. "Go get the mail, boy, or you won't be eating." Harry stood up again. "Yes, Uncle Vernon," he replied. Harry went to the hall, and walked down to the front door, and picked up the bunch of letters that had slid in through the mail slot. Out of mild curiosity, he started to leaf through them, and stopped at one of them, staring at it in shock.

_It was a letter to Harry._

The letter was a bit yellow; looking like it was made from old and ancient times, when they used parchment. The address was written dead-center of the letter in emerald-green ink. It said:

Mr. Harry Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

Little Whinging

Surrey

_So precise_, thought Harry. _I wonder who it's from_. He had never gotten a letter from anyone in his whole life. His cousin made sure of the fact that he had no friends. Harry turned the letter over and saw a wax seal, bearing and emblem of a badger, a lion, an eagle, and a serpent, all encircling the letter H. His uncle yelled from the kitchen, "What's taking you so long, boy? Checking for letter bombs, are you?" He chuckled at his poor, sad excuse for a joke. In my opinion, anyway. Harry hurried back to the kitchen, and handed the other letters to his uncle. He had discreetly shoved his own letter down his big, jeans pocket out in the hall. He knew that his aunt and uncle would try and take it from him.

After breakfast ended, Harry found himself in their neighbor's, Mrs. Figg, living room. He was always dropped over here, on Dudley's birthday. His aunt and uncle thought she was quite batty and seeing as they thought that Harry was a freak (they never said why though), they obviously thought they were birds of a feather. Harry walked over to Mrs. Figg, who was waving pointlessly at the Dursleys, as they drove away. "Could I borrow a pen and some paper?" he asked politely. Mrs. Figg nodded absently. Harry had read the letter already, when he went to the bathroom, as a cover-up. He had no reason to believe what it said, but he didn't have a reason not to either. So he decided he would write a reply, and see if they would write back. He took the letter out and read the last sentence.

_We await your owl by no later than July 31__st__._

An owl. That was what he needed. "Mrs. Figg, do-" He broke off. Mrs. Figg was looking at the letter he was holding with something that looked like delight in her eyes. "You've got your letter! Oh, Harry, I'm so proud! Oh, you'll need an owl, don't you?" She bustled off to a room off the hall, and came back with a tawny owl on her thin shoulder. She had some paper and a pen in her arms, and she dropped them onto a table nearby, and gave the cat at her ankles, a pat on the back. She looked up at Harry, who was standing there with his mouth agape. Mrs. Figg smiled in amusement. "Well, aren't you going to send your reply?" she asked. Harry jumped, and finally took notice of the paper and pen lying on the table. "Oh, err, yes." He walked over and sat at the table, quickly wrote his acceptance letter, and, with the help of Mrs. Figg, sent it off with the owl.

Harry had many questions, but his aunt and uncle came before he could ask any, and he was quickly rushed out of the house. He tossed a glance over his shoulder at Mrs. Figg; she was smiling at him fondly, and she had a knowing twinkle in her eye.


	3. Chapter 2

AN: Sorry guys, I went on vacation for a week in Texas, and I didn't get the chance to type up a new chapter or even let you know that I was going to be gone for a week. I'll let you know that I really wanted to type up a new chapter, so please don't hate me for this. I hate it when I read a good story, and the author just doesn't finish it. It really irritates me. This is far from a good story, but I will try my best and, rain or shine, I _will_ finish this story. If I don't, then I will have a VERY good reason. Alright, now on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter 2: The Mysterious Visitor

The next day was gloomy. Giant gray thunderclouds rolled in during the night, and all morning it had been pouring down buckets. Harry was currently wiping the last traces of soapy water from the living room window, which faced the street in front of the house. The tangy smell of lemons filled Harry's nostrils and burned. Harry squeezed his nose in an effort to block out the sting, and hurried back to rubbing the window clean and dry. He dipped his rag in the bucket full of soapy water that was on the carpet by his feet, and wrung out the excess water. He was about to return to wiping the window, when a pig, or rather, (grins) Dudley walked up behind him, and snatched the rag out of his hands.

Harry whirled around and glared at Dudley. He looked like he wasn't afraid, if you had managed not to notice his trembling knees. "Give that back," he said in a quiet voice. Harry succeeded in not letting any fear show in his tone. It was a good thing he didn't yell either; his _relative_ would've come running in, and would probably whop him with a frying pan. (It's not like his aunt acts like an aunt anyway. Oh, and I'm not trying to make Aunt Petunia out to be a long-lost cousin of Rapunzel either. For those that don't know, it's a reference to a movie made by Disney, called Tangled.) Dudley smirked in a smug way. "Yeah? And what will you do if I don't, freak?" Harry had never been so frustrated with Dudley, other than that moment. He didn't want to know what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would do to him, if he didn't finish cleaning the windows from the inside of the house. It was only by luck that it had rained, otherwise Harry would have had to clean the outside of the windows as well.

Harry suddenly felt a tingle at his fingertips. Warmth started flooding throughout his arms, and pooling into his fingers. With a sudden burst of sparks, the rag wrenched itself out of the pig's, I mean Dudley's, large hands, and floated gently over to Harry, finally resting back in his clutches.

Dudley stared in shock at Harry, then, as if he realized what Harry had exactly done, he bolted from the room, and started screaming for his mother. "Mum! MUM! _He's_ done that freaky stuff again!" A moment later, Aunt Petunia marched into the room, snatched up Harry's arm in a cold grip, marched him out into the hall, and shoved him in the cupboard, saying, "There'll be no supper for you tonight, boy!" And with a click, she locked the door shut.

Hours later, Harry lay awake in his cupboard under the stairs. He had listened to the Dursleys eating dinner, and they had been describing the deliciousness and the juiciness of the food (Doubt it.) in unusually loud voices. There was no point wondering on why, exactly, they were doing that. Harry's stomach rumbled loudly. Harry clasped his hands over his thin stomach, as if trying to quiet down the noise. Apparently, he thought that the Dursleys might still be awake, and perhaps lying in wait for him to make a noise, so they could pounce on him and punish him, probably for disturbing them with unearthly noises that shouldn't reach their precious ears.

Harry rolled onto his stomach. He laid his chin on his crossed arms, and stared at his musty and dusty pillow, which had a brown stain on it. _It was probably tea,_ Harry thought. _Probably tea that Dudley made Aunt Petunia spill._ A sudden creak outside his cupboard door made him pause in his musings. Harry held his breath. He snuck a glance at the crack between the door and the floor. A short dark shadow took up a small space in the middle of the crack. Whoever it was, they were very small. As small as Harry, probably. The brass knob started to turn slowly. Harry's brow furrowed. But the cupboard was locked, wasn't it? The door creaked open a crack, and Harry caught sight of a beady black eye peering in at him. Harry gathered all the courage he could muster, and got up and opened the door a bit wider. He looked out, and blinked in surprise. A little black crow with dark beady eyes, was staring at him from the ground.

It cocked its head to the side, as if examining him. Then, to Harry's shock, it nodded to itself, and flew up to Harry's head silently. It nested down into Harry's soft, black, messy hair, and with a silent "Caw!" and a flash of light, Harry and the crow vanished from Number Four, Privet Drive.

They reappeared in front of a vast, white marble building. Harry looked a bit dazed, but took in all his surroundings with interest. The crow lifted off from Harry's head, and flew to the steps in front of them. It cawed once more, and Harry understood. He rushed up the steps, and opened the large, heavy golden door. He went in, and saw a roughly hewn wall in front of him, made out of marble. Words were engraved upon it in a golden, calligraphic writing. It said:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware,_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry read it quietly, looking through the sentences with his eyes. He realized after he read it, that he must be in some sort of bank. The crow cawed again, catching Harry's attention. The crow looked at Harry piercingly, and then it looked at the poem, then back at Harry. Harry looked at the poem again, and stammered, "I-I read the poem already, if th-that's what you're asking m-me." The crow nodded, and flew over the wall. Harry stepped back a few steps, and craned his head to try and see what the bird was doing. A flash of light seeped out of the cracks in and around the wall. The wall started grating towards the left, leaving the path open to Harry. Harry stumbled forward, and caught sight of the beady dark eyes that belonged to the crow. The light faded, and Harry almost fell backward in shock. For the crow was no longer there; a creature with a domed head, gnarled fingers and toes, and a dark cape that looked like it was made out of shadows, was.

Harry's heart was beating fast against his ribcage. His eyes were wide, as he looked at the creature in front of him. The creature sighed to himself, and muttered, "Gone through a lot of trauma, this one has. If only the Wizarding World would get their lazy bums off their brooms and see what their precious Boy-Who-Lived has gone through." He shook his head. Harry's head was whirling with so many questions, one after the other. Wizarding World? Boy-Who-Lived? What did all of this mean? Harry hesitantly started to ask, "What-" The creature cut him off. "I'll explain more, when we get to my office. Come, this way. Oh, and I'm a goblin," he added. Harry blinked, and started to follow the goblin. The goblin led him into a grand entrance hall that had counters off to the sides, filled with ledgers and scales. Harry spotted another goblin that was weighing a glowing ruby that looked the size of Harry's fist.

The goblin that Harry was following, called over his shoulder, "Hurry up, Mr. Potter!" Harry jumped, startled, and ran forward to catch up, not realizing that he had fallen behind. He wondered, _how did the goblin know my name? _He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking hard. Deciding to give it up for the moment, he slowed down into a brisk pace beside the goblin.

When they finally got to the goblin's office, Harry was amazed and in awe of the bank. Never had he seen a bank that looked so luxurious, or so, so, _fancy_. Of course, Harry had never seen a bank before, so it wasn't really saying much.

Harry was led into a high-backed chair with oak-furnished handles, and when he had sat down; the goblin bustled around it to his oak desk, and sat in the chair that lifted him up a few inches. The goblin leaned forward, and said, "Mr. Potter, do you believe in magic?" Harry looked confused at the question. The goblin asked him another one. "Have you ever made anything happen, when you were sad or angry, or perhaps even frustrated, maybe scared?" Harry slowly nodded, not really seeing where this was going. The goblin leaned back in his chair. He looked at Harry straight in the eye, and said bluntly, "Then you're a wizard. Congratulations, Mr. Potter." Harry's eyes widened comically. "WH-what? A-a wizard? You must be j-joking. I-I _can't_ be a w-wizard."

The goblin looked at Harry closely. "I don't care what your relatives told you," he said bluntly again. "You're a wizard and a powerful one too, once you've learned a bit. You've quite the potential." Harry gulped, even though he was growing even more interested. "But, sir-" The goblin cut him off. "None of that 'sir' business. My name is Griphook. And you'll be calling me that, or you'll have to answer to me," he added warningly. The goblin quickly got up, went over to a shelf, and laid his gnarled hand upon it. He closed his eyes, and muttered something garbled, and in a flash of light, a scroll was lying in his grip. Harry looked closely at it, and noticed a wax seal that had a coat of arms upon it. It was a stag, holding a lily in its mouth, trotting along in a sunny forest.

Griphook noticed his gaze at it, and explained, "This is the Potter Coat of Arms. It's always an animal that holds some type of flower in its mouth, walking along in a forest. The animal is always the Animagi form of the latest Lord Potter, and the flower is always the name, or favorite flower of the latest Lady Potter. Animagi means a wizard who can turn into an animal at will," Griphook added at Harry's puzzled look. Griphook continued, "In this case, your father could turn into a stag, and your mother's name was Lily." Harry's eyes brightened, when he heard that. He had never heard anything about his parents at the Dursleys. He'd always longed to know more about his parents.

Harry was getting used to the idea of being an actual wizard. He had received his letter of course, but he had still thought it was a prank by somebody. Even though Mrs. Figg seemed to believe it, she still seemed to be a bit batty and not right in the head to Harry. Whoever keeps an owl in their house, sort of encourages that theory. Harry was thrown out of his thoughts, when Griphook cleared his throat. Harry looked at him quickly, and saw that the goblin was looking at him in an understanding way. Griphook said, "Since you've not learned how to become an Animagi yet, the Coat of Arms remains the same. You are still the Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, however, so if you know any manners, this is a good time to start using them, if you haven't already. You own four mansions in four different places, and all of them are Muggle-warded. Muggle means a non-magical person. Your four mansions are in: London, Rome, Paris, and New Castle, which is in the United States, in the state of Pennsylvania. Your four mansions in those areas are, in that order: Potter Manor, the Lily Villa, the Rose Chateau, and the Lavender Estate. You have 700,089,956 Galleons, 200,000 Sickles, and 890 Knuts. Do you know U.S. currency?" Harry nodded; it was a random fact he learned about at school. Griphook replied, "That money would convert to about hundred billion dollars." (Made that up, by the way, for the sake of the story.) Harry's jaw dropped open in shock, and Griphook started laughing at the look on poor Harry's face. "You're the richest wizard in the Wizarding World, Mr. Potter. Might as well get used to it, eh?"

After Harry had accepted the fact that he was richer than the Dursleys, and the rest of the Wizarding World, he listened to what Griphook just finished saying. "…You also have some expensive jewelery and other rare items in your family vault. Your trust vault has only enough for your time at Hogwarts. You have a portrait of your parents in the family vault, which hasn't been activated yet, with your touch. You'll see what that exactly means after you go to Hogwarts. Before I take you back, there's something your parents left for you that you need to see. No buts about it." Harry sat up straighter in his seat. He looked at the large, circular, stone bowl that Griphook set on his desk. It had strange markings on the sides, and before Harry could ask what they meant, Griphook was pulling out a small vial from the shelf he had gotten the scroll from. The vial was filled with a swirling substance of some silvery-blue liquid. Griphook carefully uncorked the vial, and poured the contents into the stone bowl.

Griphook looked up at Harry, and quickly said, "This is a Pensieve, Harry. It's a special object that's used to view memories, like what Muggles would call television. This is your parents' memory. They will be giving you some very good advice, and things that you urgently need to know if you don't want to die." Harry looked stunned, excited to see his parents, and a bit pensive on the last thing that Griphook mentioned. Griphook continued in a hurried voice, "All you need to do is stick a finger in the memory." He gestured at the silvery-blue liquid inside the Pensieve. Harry nodded, and dipped a forefinger into the memory gently. With a tug behind his navel, he was pulled forward into the Pensieve.

Harry landed on his bum with a thump, and he quickly got up, brushing the seat of his pants. He looked around with interest. He was in a living room. It wasn't at all like the Dursleys' living room. This room was in shades of cream and a cinnamon brown. The Dursleys' living room was in a sickly peach color, like the rest of the house. According to Aunt Petunia, it was actually an earthy pink, from a Home magazine, but Harry didn't agree with her. He noticed with a start, a young couple sitting on one of the couches. The young woman was very pretty, Harry noticed. She had long, dark red hair, bright emerald green eyes, and her skin had no blemishes on it, whatsoever. The man sitting next to her was quite handsome, according to what the girls talked about at school, thought Harry. He had messy black hair and hazel eyes, and he had glasses like Harry's.

Harry's attention snapped back to his mother, as she started to talk. It was a lovely voice too, thought Harry to himself. "Harry, my dear son, if you're watching this memory, then the worst has happened. Your father and I were killed by the most evil wizard in recent history, Albus Dumbledore. Harry, my sweet baby, you are the only one that survived, and you are the only one that knows the true identity of our murderer. Albus Dumbledore is currently Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as far as I know. Be careful of him, my precious son. He will surely come after you, or he has something planned for you. The Wizarding World thinks that Voldemort killed us, or as they call him, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He does not exist. He has never existed. It is only Dumbledore's fake name, for when he is his true self. The rest of the time, he acts like a kind, old man that loves candy. Don't trust him, my only son. Don't become his pawn. He is the ultimate chess master. But, if you are clever, sneaky, and patient enough, you can checkmate him. You are the only one that knows this, Harry. Only you and the goblins. But nobody believes goblins, so this is up to you, Harry. Please be careful, Harry. I love you."

Harry's father started speaking, and after Harry wiped away his tears, he looked towards his dad. "Harry, my son… Where do I start? Know your friends, Harry. And know your enemies even better. Don't make the mistake I did. Harry, we are so sorry for leaving you here all alone. But you have a connection to us. My all-but-in-blood brother, Sirius Black, is probably in Azkaban. There's another memory that Griphook can give you that you can use as evidence of his innocence. My Secret Keeper was Peter Pettigrew, one of Dumbledore's right-hand men. He's the one that betrayed us, and ultimately led us to our deaths. Harry, all I can say, is that I love you very much, and to be very careful when dealing with Dumbledore."

Harry's parents walked up to Harry, and with tears in their eyes, kissed Harry's forehead, and gave him hugs, which felt so amazingly _warm_, and oh-so-very _real_. They let go after a while, it was too soon in Harry's opinion, but he knew that the memory was over. With a tug behind his navel, he was yanked backwards and up, into Griphook's office. Griphook stepped forward and handed him a small ring with the Potter Coat of Arms engraved upon it. "This is a special ring. It lets you know when the Coat of Arms changes, it will glow to show who your true friends are, and it heats up, when you are in danger. I want you to wear this ring at all times, everywhere you go. Never take it off, unless you need to. I am going to have to take you back to the Dursleys now. It'll be much better though, however. Dumbledore had placed a curse on the neighborhood, and its inhabitants, to be, in a matter of speaking, uncivilized towards you. Your aunt and uncle care for you very much, and Dumbledore put a spell on them to make them hate you, and abuse you. It is my understanding that it happened on the day you were delivered there on Halloween night. You will get a much nicer life now there." Harry was speechless. "Th-thank you, Griphook!" he stammered out. Griphook nodded his head, smiling. "The Potters have always been friends to the goblins, and we treasure that friendship, no pun intended." Harry laughed, smiling sadly at Griphook. "Will I see you again?" Griphook nodded. "When you come to Diagon Alley to get things for school, you will. You'll need to come here to get your money. The ring, by the way, is also a way to contact me, when you need me."

Harry grinned. "This really is a useful ring." Griphook nodded. "Yes, it is," he agreed. "Now, we cannot delay any longer. Your aunt and uncle have been sent a letter about your whereabouts. They understand, but I imagine that they are anxious to see you and apologize for their behavior. Now, stand still." Griphook quickly turned into a crow, and settled upon Harry's hair. With a flash of light, they disappeared, and reappeared on Number Four, Privet Drive.

As Harry lay in his new bedroom, hours later, he smiled to himself. This was probably the best day he ever had.

AN: Dang, I wrote a lot. I used Word, and it says I typed up 7 pages. I hope you guys are happy with this. I don't know if I'll write this much tomorrow, so don't expect long chapters all the time. Oh, and make sure to check out the poll on my profile. Now that I think about it, I can really see Harry as a Ravenclaw. Oh, that's my house on Pottermore, by the way. Please, please, please vote on the poll. Remember, Harry will convert Malfoy, Snape is good, Fred and George are good, the other Weasleys are bad, and the Dursleys will be good now. OH, and Neville and Luna are Harry's true friends. Plus they'll all be in the same house together. Luna will be in the same year as Harry and Neville for this story as well. Thank you for reading, and I hope that some of you will be able to check out my websites in my profile as well. Tell me what you think of it on a review or PM me. Mischief Managed!

: ) author422


	4. Chapter 3

AN: Wow, I have, like, seven reviews! I sent replies to all of you, but rose1, you didn't get one, because you don't have an account on here. I'm really sorry. You seem like a really nice person. Anyway, back to business. I hope you guys voted on the poll. Remember, Snape would be Harry's mentor if he went into Slytherin, Flitwick would be Harry's mentor if he went to Ravenclaw, Sprout would be Harry's mentor if he went to Hufflepuff, and McGonagall would be Harry's mentor if he went to Gryffindor. Keep that in mind, when you vote. Oh, and Hagrid will be on Harry's side. Plus, we're sort of skipping ahead to Harry's birthday. And please spread the word of my second website, it's really important to me. Now, on with the story!

Song: Live It Up by Owl City

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter 3- The Mysterious Trunk

The next day, Harry woke up with a big grin on his face. He got up, got dressed, brushed his teeth, and headed downstairs, feeling inexplicably cheerful. Last night, he and the Dursleys had agreed to pretend that the past ten years had never happened. Today was a new day.

When Harry reached the kitchen, Uncle Vernon put down his newspaper, and said, "Good morning, Harry! Did you sleep well?" Harry smiled and nodded. "Good, good. Now, since today is your birthday-" He was cut off by Harry. "Today is my birthday? What's the date?" Harry asked excitedly. He had never had his birthday celebrated. Uncle Vernon chuckled, and answered, "Today is the 31st of July. Now, since it's your birthday today, your aunt and I will be giving you a special trunk that your mother left for you. It's in the attic right now. But first, you need to eat breakfast." Aunt Petunia bustled over from the stove, holding the frying pan full of bacon. She slid all of it on Harry's plate, poured him a glass of orange juice, and gave him two slices of toast, buttered. It also had some strawberry jam spread on it. Aunt Petunia patted Harry's head and said firmly, "Eat up. You need more meat on your bones, you're much too thin." Aunt Petunia's voice took on a soft tone. "We'll look at my sister's trunk for you after breakfast. We'll bring it down to the living room." Harry smiled at his aunt; he could finally call her that now. (Now I can type her name too; I _always_ knew that she was his aunt. (Smiling weakly) You believe me, right?) Aunt Petunia smiled back at him, and sat down next to Uncle Vernon.

Soon, Dudley came into the room, yawning. He sat heavily down at the table, rubbing his eyes blearily. He peered up at Harry, and, yawning all the while, said, "G-good morning, H-harry. S-sleep well?" He yawned once more. He stretched his arms above his head, like a ballerina. (Snickering quietly. Catches reader's eye, flushes red, looks away, and starts whistling innocently. Thing is, I don't know how to whistle.) Harry grinned, and replied, "Alright. You, Dudley?" Dudley shrugged and nodded, which looked a bit odd, considering his many chins. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were eating whole-grain cereal, with low-fat milk. After the curse was lifted off, they had stopped abusing themselves as well. Dudley was also no longer spoiled. Griphook had said that their memories had been erased, after the curse had been lifted, and that they only remembered that they had been cruel to Harry. It was the same with the rest of Privet Drive.

After breakfast, the Dursleys and Harry were in the living room, staring at the trunk that rested in the middle of the living room. Uncle Vernon had brought it downstairs from the attic, saying that it felt so light that it was probably empty. But this theory was proven wrong, when Dudley had accidently tripped on it, and they had all heard the sound of who-knows-what tumbling around in the trunk. There was something in that trunk, all right, was the thought echoing in their heads. It was silent in the living room as everyone just sat on the couches around the trunk, and resolved to stare at the trunk. Finally, Harry got up and walked over to the trunk. He felt the lid and the words carved upon it. _For Harry_, it said. It also had the Potter Coat of Arms on the lock, but the stag was walking stately. The trees rustled and shook, and the lily's petals fluttered in the breeze. It was like a moving picture. Of course, Griphook had given Harry a book about the Wizarding World to Harry, after he had dropped him off last night. He had read it before he went to bed. Apparently, pictures in the Wizarding World could move. Harry supposed that this was rather the same thing. Harry looked at the back of the trunk.

A poem was engraved on the back in silver, calligraphic writing. Below it, there was a tiny hole. It said:

_To open this trunk,_

_Here's the key:_

_What is silver and cannot_

_see?_

Harry read it out aloud to his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Uncle Vernon frowned. "A riddle, eh? I'm not too good with those," he said. Aunt Petunia and Dudley looked at each other. Dudley's brow furrowed, as he thought hard. "A blind snake?" he suggested weakly. Harry bit his lip. "That doesn't sound right." Aunt Petunia looked at the trunk. "Lily loved to sew and knit things for the elves at Hogwarts. She always said that they should have something warm during the winter. I recognize a sewing pattern that she loved to use here." She pointed to a small section of the lid, and Harry examined that spot. He did see a floral-looking design there, like it was etched there with a- "A needle!" Harry exclaimed. "That's the key! Needles are silver, and the hole at the top is called an eye. Aunt Petunia, you're a genius! Do you have a sewing needle?" Uncle Vernon smiled proudly at Harry. "That's my nephew!" Dudley grinned at Harry. "A needle makes much more sense than a blind snake," he said, nodding. Aunt Petunia hurried to her bedroom, and came out with a silver, sewing needle.

Harry took it gently, being careful not to prick Aunt Petunia with it. He then poked the needle into the tiny hole below the poem. Something clicked inside the trunk, and the lid popped open a few inches. Harry knelt at the front of the trunk, and pushed the lid wide open. Everyone peered inside, and what they saw made them gasp.

AN: I'm going to end it here for today. This seemed like a good place to leave off on. Some of you were wondering what Harry's school life was like. Well, I'm answering it on an author's note. Since the curse only extended to the whole neighborhood, it doesn't go outside of it. Harry was still the outsider in class however, due to his baggy clothes, and looking like he came from a poor home. Plus there was Dudley, who was the bully in Harry's school. No-one wanted to get near him after one kid got beaten up... so yeah. I hope you guys are okay with this chapter for now. If you guys like free, full version computer games, by the way, type in 'free ride games' on the search engine. Just take all the spaces away from those three words. It's a really good website. You could play Delicious Emily etc. games! You could also do Mortimer Beckett and the Crimson Rose. So, why don't you check it out? Oh, and Owl City/Adam Young is one of my favorite song artists. I also like The Fray. Check out the song at the top of the page; it was in Smurfs 2.

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	5. Chapter 4

AN: There's a comment made by my account on the review page. Please just ignore it. My sister accidently typed a review from my account. I wasn't bragging about myself, and if it isn't too much to ask, please just forget about it. Thank you guys, for sticking with the story this far. It means a lot to me. And I know I should save this for when I'm near the end of the story, but staying with this story, even when I left for a week and didn't tell you, means a lot to me. I was worried that no-one would ever read my stories anymore. Thank you for reassuring me with your continued support. Now that all the mushy and sentimental stuff is over, I think you'd like to read the story. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Long Live by Taylor Swift

Chapter 4- The Mysterious Contents of Harry's Trunk

Inside the trunk, there was no bottom. Well, there was, but it was probably a long way down; a theory that was proven correct, seeing as the staircase that was in it, spiraled down into darkness. Dudley looked outside of the trunk, then inside, then back outside. "Is it magic that's doing it?" he asked, in an awed tone. Harry nodded; there was no other way it was possible, without magic. Uncle Vernon clasped a hand around the banister, and leaned in, peering vainly into the dark, trying to see where the staircase led. Finally, he straightened up.

"I can't see anything down there. I don't see a light switch in there either. Perhaps there's something else you have to solve." Aunt Petunia examined the interior walls of the trunk, running her hands lightly on the texturing, memorizing it. When she reached a certain spot, her eyes lit up. She gestured to Harry enthusiastically.

"It's another one of Lily's sewing patterns! Maybe she has a trail of these in here, or maybe you have to put your palm on it, signifying that you're Harry." Harry looked at the sewing pattern that Aunt Petunia was pointing to. It was a square the size of his palm. Inside the square, were minuscule golden balls with wings flying around. Harry recognized them as Snitches. He had also read about Quidditch from his Welcome to the Wizarding World book. Harry cautiously put a foot on the first step down. Nothing happened.

Harry slowly reached out, and put his palm shakily on the sewing pattern. When his skin made contact with it, all of the Snitches immediately flew into a straight line, and flew down at the same time, then back up, almost like it was scanning his palm. Afterwards, they flew out of line again, going in all sorts of directions. And with a small beep, the lights overhead flickered to life. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley gasped, and Harry's eyes danced with excitement. He looked away from the lights overhead, and instead, looked down at the stairs that looked like it led to… a living room? Harry stopped at the doorway, with Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley behind him. All of them had unconsciously started walking down the stairs, to the warm light that was glowing out onto the bottom of the staircase. They slowly walked in. All of them were gazing in wonder at the room before them.

Harry had recognized it immediately. It was the living room from his parents' memory. The walls were a warm cinnamon brown, that made Harry think of Christmas, and that made him start thinking longingly of gingerbread, and apple pie. The furniture was all from a set, it seemed, as they seemed to all be the same design and color. They had elegant curlicues and swirls imprinted in the cherry wood furnishing, and the creamy color of the cushions contrasted nicely with the darker color of the cherry wood.

Aunt Petunia whispered to Uncle Vernon, "We are definitely remodeling our house." Uncle Vernon nodded. Dudley said quietly, "What's that on the wall over there?"

Everyone turned to where Dudley was. He was looking at a large something that was covered with a big white sheet. The form of it looked like it was a life-size portrait of someone. Harry was drawn to it, for some reason. He felt drawn to it, like a moth to a light. He couldn't help walking over to the sheet, staring at it for a few seconds, then, he gripped the sheet with both of his hands and pulled. The white sheet flew off of the portrait with a whoosh, and gently fluttered down to the carpeted floor. Uncle Vernon gasped, Aunt Petunia choked, Dudley's eyes widened, and Harry….Harry just stared. His parents were looking out at him, smiling and crying at the same time, from a life-size portrait, that was framed with cherry wood, encrusted with tiny crystals that reflected rainbows off of it, when the light hit it at just the right angle. Harry smiled brightly; his eyes were shining from unshed tears. He unsteadily reached out a hand to touch his mother's hand. He could only reach her knee. His mother sobbed, when she saw his simple action, yet filled with love. Oh, how tragic for a family to be split apart from violence, and for their only son to be left alone upon the earth, never to feel a mother's warm embrace, or a father's caring advice. Harry would have even been willing to get a scolding from his mother, because he knew that parents scold their children because they loved them. But it wasn't to be.

All of Harry's life, he was hated. He wasn't now, but the past years had taken a toll on Harry. He now knew that the world was a cold, cruel place. People suffered. Now though, Harry knew that sufferings were, in a way, a blessing. _They molded us into who we are today_, realized Harry. _Would someone curse the Lord, if his daughter died in her sleep, from a terrible illness? Or would he thank the Lord, for taking away her pain, and taking her to a better place? It depends on how we react,_ thought Harry. _The Lord died for all of humankind; He went through worse sufferings than us. He was flogged! He was beaten mercilessly, with such cruel, sharp weapons. He was scorned, and mocked of, as He walked two and a half miles, not getting any sleep. His friends abandoned Him; the only one there was His own mother. His poor, poor mother. Seeing Him being beaten, flogged, and crucified, must've broken her heart into pieces, _thought Harry sadly. _A mother's heart is a garden of love. And to top it all off, _Harry thought bitterly,_ was that He was innocent. People complain, saying that innocent people in the war died too, but were they completely innocent? Had they never done anything wrong? We're all humans, and we all sin. But the Lord was completely innocent. He never told a lie, He never disobeyed His parents; He never got drunk, or partied late into the night… He was perfect. He was pure. And He was killed for it. And, _Harry thought laughing humorlessly in his mind,_ no-one cared. That's the way the world is,_ thought Harry sadly.

He shook his head. He had been rambling on in his mind. He looked up at his parents. They were looking at him, in an understanding way. They looked like they knew what he had been thinking moments before. Harry gave a tiny, crooked smile, one which they returned lovingly. Harry swallowed his roaring emotions down, as he asked, "Are there more rooms? In here, I mean?"

His father replied, "Lots of rooms. This trunk is a replica of Potter Manor. Only, it's the trunk version," James winked, as he said this. Harry grinned. He could talk to his parents later, he figured. Right now, he'd like to show the Dursleys around. He turned to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Dudley was still coming to the fact that Harry's father had said 'Potter _Manor_'.

"Would you guys like a tour?" Harry asked grinning.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia smiled kindly at him. "We'd love one." Dudley suddenly snapped out of it. "A tour?" he asked, his eyes beginning to bulge out of his head. "Blimey, Harry! You've got a whole mansion in here!"

Harry and his parents started to laugh, joined later by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. James and Lily walked out of their portrait, becoming the tour guides, as they had a portrait in every room. Harry and the Dursleys followed them, and they spent the entire morning doing so.

AN: Whew! I'm sorry by the way, for that, er, lecture Harry thought up. I just needed somewhere to get my opinion on. You guys don't mind, do you? I'll try not to do them, but don't snap at me, if you see little things like that here and there. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you, by any chance, are _interested _from Harry's mind-lecture thing, then I think you should check out my third website on my list that's on the profile. Oh, and I'm not a fan of Taylor Swift, I just like that one song. It fits in really well with Harry Potter. It's almost like she wrote it for the books. But, it kind of fits more of a college graduation thing. You know, two kids growing up together, then they finally graduate, and they're remembering all the fun times they had. Okay, well. Gotta go!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	6. Chapter 5

AN: Thank you guys for voting on the poll! It's over now, because the chapter after this is when Harry goes to Hogwarts! Don't worry: the juiciness of when Harry goes to Hogwarts will start very soon! Then, it will be very exciting to read, and you won't want to stop! I've been building up the tension, and I know that some of you are getting a bit frustrated. Again, thank you for voting, and I really HOPE you can check out my websites. (HINT, HINT) I won't describe any other places in Harry's trunk, until later on in the story, by the way. Now, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter 5- The Visit To Diagon Alley

Harry woke up, yawning from his bed. Yesterday, he had met his parents' portrait, and they had led him and the Dursleys on a tour around Harry's trunk-manor. Harry smiled at the thought of his trunk-manor. Two weeks ago, if you had told Harry that the Dursleys would love him, and that he would own a manor from a trunk, he would've looked at you like you had gone mental. Stretching like a cat, he slowly shuffled out of his room, and down to the kitchen.

When he had sat down at the table, he suddenly gasped. _How could he not have thought of that? _Harry quickly brought his ring finger to his mouth, and said urgently, "Griphook!" The Potter Coat of Arms faded out of sight, and Griphook's face blurred into view.

"What is it, Harry?" Griphook looked concerned. Harry took some deep breaths, before he proceeded.

"Griphook, I'm so worried, what if Dumbledore found out that the spell was lifted from the Dursleys and what if he knows about the trunk, what he will do, will he find a way to kill me, or will he move me away from the Dursleys, Griphook, I don't want to leave my aunt and uncle and cousin, I want to stay here, Griphook, what am I going to do, this is horrible-"

Griphook interrupted him. "Calm down, Harry! Don't worry about Dumbledore knowing; I've placed a spell on you, and the Dursleys' house, that disable all of Dumbledore's spells. I've also transferred the tracking charm that was on you to a rock. It's on the Dursleys' property, and it has a letter H drawn on it, in bright red marker. You have to make sure to take it with you to Hogwarts, Harry. Oh, and Dumbledore doesn't know about your parents' trunk, either. It has some very fine and powerful charms on it. I'm the one who put them there, after all," he added, to Harry's puzzled look. Harry had been wondering how Griphook knew about the trunk. He was expecting Griphook to ask about the trunk, when Harry had mentioned it.

Harry hesitantly nodded. "You are sure that Dumbledore is out of the loop?" he asked.

Griphook looked at him in amusement. "I'm very sure, Harry. In fact, I could check for you, if you want."

Harry nodded. "That would calm me down, Griphook. But, no thanks. I should be able to trust your word, even if the rest of the Wizarding World doesn't." Griphook grinned at Harry.

"If that's all, then…" Griphook trailed off. Harry nodded again. "That's all. Thanks again, Griphook." With grins, they shut off their rings. Griphook also had one. Harry looked towards Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who had been looking worried about Dumbledore knowing that the spell had been lifted off. Harry smiled at them in relief. "He doesn't know," and he hadn't even finished speaking, when Dudley burst into the kitchen, saying frantically, "Mum! Dad! Harry! There's a giant out on the front porch, and he's saying that he's come to get Harry, so he can get his things at Diagon Alley!" Panic reigned in the kitchen. "Dudley! What's the giant's name?" Harry shouted over the noise.

Dudley stammered, "Hagrid is what h-he s-said. He also said that he's not on Dumbledore's side. Said that he's come from Gringotts, just a while ago. H-he said that you'd know wh-what he m-meant." Harry sighed in relief. He smiled at all of them. "Don't worry, then. Griphook's probably talked to him. I'll go see him. I suppose he's going to protect me from Dumbledore, while I'm shopping. Oh, I'll have to bring that red stone too; otherwise, Dumbledore will think that I'm still here, instead of Diagon Alley." Aunt Petunia headed out into the backyard, and came back in with a red-marked stone. "You be careful, Harry. I want you safe and sound, when you come back." She slipped the stone into his shirt pocket. She looked at him excitedly. "Now, go on. I want to hear all about Diagon Alley, when you come back. It must've changed quite a bit, since I've gone there with Lily." Dudley clapped a hand on Harry's back. "Maybe next time, we can go with you. I want to hear all about it, too."

Harry replied, "Sure thing, Dud. Maybe I'll buy you guys an owl, so you can owl me, while I'm at Hogwarts, or one of those two-way mirrors that the Welcome to the Wizarding World told me about." Dudley's eyes popped open. "That'd be so cool!" He shook his head, and looked determinedly at Harry. "Well, since you've got an owl to buy, hurry up!" He shoved Harry out of the kitchen, and began pulling him by the arm to Hagrid. Hagrid was waiting in the living room. He couldn't stay out on the porch, where neighbors could see him. Hagrid's smile returned when he saw Harry. He slowly stood up from the couch, and carefully weaved his way through the furniture to reach Harry. Harry stuck his hand out for Hagrid to shake. Hagrid's beetle-like eyes crinkled, and tears seeped out of them, and into his wild beard.

He picked up Harry, to said person's surprise, and gave him a rib-cracking hug. He set him back down after a while. Harry looked at Hagrid curiously. "Hagrid, isn't it?" Hagrid nodded, saying, "Aye. An' when I saw you, you were still jus' a baby! An' now her' you are, bein' manipulated by Dumbledore! Voldemort, I mean," Sadness was evident in Hagrid's tone. Harry looked at him, smiling sadly. "Hey, it's okay, Hagrid. I've got you and Griphook, remember? And this ring I have should help me find some _real_ friends."

Hagrid replied, "Aye, you're your parents' son, you are. Well," Hagrid heaved a gigantic sigh, "we'd bes' be goin' to Diagon Alley. Get your things an' all." Dudley, who had been standing off to the side, being quiet, now spoke up. "Yeah, Harry has to go get an owl! Speaking of that…" He walked over to Harry and gripped his shoulders, and he started to push Harry towards the front door, saying, "Come on, Harry! I can't wait any longer! The suspense is killing me!" Harry and Hagrid laughed, although Hagrid's laugh shook the vases in the room. Finally, they left, for the Leaky Cauldron.

When they got there, everyone stopped talking, and stared at Harry. Harry said in a loud voice, growing uncomfortable with the stares, "C-could you please s-stop staring? It's very rude, you know. Besides, my mother is the one who saved me. She sacrificed her life to save mine, and I was just lucky enough that it worked for me. I'd like to know the way to Diagon Alley, if you don't mind," he added. People turned away, while a few people silently pointed to the small room that was made out of a few brick walls, and an overflowing trashcan. Harry smiled, and said politely, "Thank you. Come on, Hagrid." They walked over to the brick wall that had some discolored bricks in the center. Hagrid pulled out his flowery pink umbrella out, and started to tap the bricks in a certain order, not noticing Harry's raised eyebrow. Hagrid put his umbrella back in his pocket, and the bricks started rearranging themselves. To Harry's amazement, he was soon looking at a long cobble-stone street, with wizards and witches bustling about, and all the shops standing in straight lines on either side. Harry whispered, "Wow." He had never seen Diagon Alley. All he had seen was Gringotts, and he hadn't noticed the street behind him, since it was at night that he had visited.

Hagrid smiled kindly at Harry, and said, "Welcome Harry, to Diagon Alley." And with that, they stepped in, and the pub behind them lost sight of the small boy and the large giant, as the bricks closed tight the entrance.

AN: That's where I'll stop for today. It's hard to type all of this, even when you have the whole story planned out in your head. Their shopping will be covered in the next chapter, and then it will be the train ride. Then, it's HOGWARTS! I'm so excited, 'cause that will be the fun part to write in the story. The big, juicy part. Oh, and I'm sorry for saying that the Hogwarts chapter will be after this one. I guess I overestimated my typing abilities, and my stamina. I'll see you next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	7. Chapter 6

AN: Hey guys! Thank you for putting up with me and giving reviews, even though you don't have to. I know it's tough, stopping just to write a few quick words, when you really want to just read. I would be a hypocrite, if I told you that you need to give me reviews, when I usually don't review on any story I read. So, only review when you want to, alright? No pressure. This chapter is on Harry finding a pet for the Dursleys. The next chapter, he'll be getting his robes, and meeting Malfoy. Then, it'll be getting his wand. I'm really sorry that I have to split the shopping in many chapters. But I'm getting a bit tired of typing. I can't really do long chapters yet. Since Voldemort doesn't even exist, it's actually going to be Dumbledore, testing Harry to see if he has any 'prophecy powers'. Dumbledore doesn't like competition, so he's going to want Harry out of the game. Just reminding you guys, not nagging. Oh, and I'm trying my best with Hagrid's voice. It's hard trying to type what he would sound like, 'cause Microsoft Word keeps on marking everything incorrect, and then I look at it, and click 'ignore all', but then it doesn't look right, and then I change it to normal spelling. This gives me a headache. (Sigh.) Well, um. On with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Gold by Owl City (try acoustic, if you want)

Chapter 6- Meeting a True Friend

Hagrid and Harry wove around the other witches and wizards cautiously, being careful not to bump into anybody. It was more dangerous to bump into a wizard than a Muggle, because the wizard or witch could be carrying a potion, and potions, when handled recklessly, could be deadly. Harry was wishing he had about ten more pairs of eyes; he couldn't get enough of the thrilling and exciting atmosphere, the fantastic sparks of light here and there, and the interesting products encased in colorful displays. It was a whole new world to him, one to be explored. _I guess this is what my mother felt like, seeing as she was raised by Muggles like me,_ thought Harry. Harry caught sight of a shop that had owls in cages hanging outside, jewel-encrusted tortoises in the display window, and a basket of fuzzy little… things that were the color of custard, sitting by the door, inside the shop. Harry tugged on Hagrid's coat. Hagrid turned to look at Harry.

"Hagrid, is that the pet shop?" Harry asked, gesturing to the shop to the left of them. Hagrid turned to see where Harry was pointing to, and beamed suddenly.

"Aye, that there is the Magical Menergie, I mean the Mergenie, I mean-"

Harry laughed. "You mean the Magical Menagerie?"

Hagrid smiled sheepishly. "Er, yeah, that sounds abou' righ'. I don' suppose you wan' to go, do ya?"

Harry nodded, and said, "You heard Dudley; he wants an owl real badly, I can tell. Aunt Petunia's always liked cats, and I caught Uncle Vernon looking at a dog in a magazine. Er, does the Wizarding World have dogs and cats?" Hagrid nodded, and they stepped inside the shop.

A small tiger ran past their ankles, and a middle-aged witch was chasing after it, calling in a frustrated voice, "Come back here, Crookshanks!" Harry took a closer look at the small tiger, and realized that it was actually a very large ginger cat. Harry mumbled, "Well, I'm not getting Aunt Petunia that."

Hagrid said, ducking his head to Harry's level, "If you give me yer lis', I'll go get everythin' that ya need, shor' of a wan' an' all." Harry nodded, and passed on his list to Hagrid from his pocket. Hagrid took it, and made his way out of the store, patting a snake, that bared its fangs at him, on the head as he left. Harry looked around the shop, edging away from the snake that was now looking at Harry in a way that Harry didn't like. Harry's eyes trailed over the store, and they stopped at where some owls were resting their heads under their wings. They hung in cages that hung at eye-level, so the witch/wizard could pet one, and see if they liked them. A snowy white owl drew Harry's attention, and she, as Harry could see from the information card taped to her cage, was peering out at him from under her wing, with one yellow, interested eye.

Harry carefully poked an index finger through the bars of her cage, and softly said, "Hello there. My name's Harry." The snowy white owl just kept looking at him, as if trying to see if he was worthy enough for her to approach him. Then, finally she hooted, and brushed the top of her head under Harry's finger. Harry grinned, pleased with himself. He quietly stroked her, and he asked, "Would you like to be my friend?" The owl looked at him incredulously, as if she was saying; _we're already friends, stupid!_ Harry chuckled, and said, "Okay, okay. I just wanted to make sure." He lifted her cage carefully from the hook that it was hanging on, and went to the front desk.

The middle-aged witch was back, and she looked tired. She smiled faintly at Harry when she noticed him in front of her, and she said, after looking at the owl, "That'll be 5 Galleons, dear." Harry blinked, and then sighed. _I should've gone to Gringotts first._ "I'm sorry," he said politely. "I'm afraid that I didn't go to Gringotts first. Do you think that one of the goblins could send you the money later?"

The witch rubbed her chin, and nibbled on her lip. "If you had an official saying-so from the goblin in charge of your vaults, you could, I suppose." Harry bent his head to his ring, and called, "Griphook!" Griphook's face came into view. The witch was looking at the ring in shock. "You called, Harry?"

Harry laughed sheepishly, and said, "Er, I forgot to come to Gringotts first, and I know I'll go after this, but I really want to buy everyone's, and my, pets first. Do you think you could, I don't know, send money somehow here?" Griphook shook his head exasperatedly, but said, "Yes. When you get to Gringotts, I'll give you an official Gringotts card. Basically, it's like a Muggle credit card. You can use it in the Muggle world as well. But for now, you can use your ring as a stamp on any purchase you make for today. I'll send the card through your owl. You don't have to come to Gringotts."

Harry sighed in relief. "I wasn't really looking forward to the cart ride that the book you gave me told me about." He admitted. Griphook chortled. "Neither were your father, and his father, and the father before him. Can't blame you, I suppose. It's rather like a Muggle rollercoaster. I think I'll be going now, Harry. I have to take someone down to their vault. I'll talk to you later. Good afternoon." Griphook's image faded away, and the Potter Coat of Arms came back on the ring.

The witch behind the desk looked at Harry in surprise, and gave him the receipt she had rung up, all the while saying to herself, "Not many boys out there can call in a goblin on their ring. And isn't that the Potter Coat of Arms? My, my, the Boy Who Lived in my shop! What an honor!" Harry pressed his knuckles down on the receipt, and when he had lifted his hand, a perfect stamp-version of the Potter Coat of Arms, was on it. The witch took back the receipt, and with a magical scanning thing, she held the receipt up to it and after a beep, she put the receipt inside a box under the counter. "Go ahead and look some more, Mr. Potter. I heard that you needed to buy some pets for a few others as well." Harry nodded.

Harry said before he left to look at the Cat Corner, "Could you watch over Hedwig, please? That's your new name, Hedwig. Do you like it?" Hedwig hooted happily, and the witch replied, "Of course I'll watch Hedwig for you, dear. She's a real beauty. You made a fine choice." Harry gave a crooked smile. "Oh, I didn't choose Hedwig. I think she chose me," and he headed off after saying that. The witch furrowed her brow, and looked at Hedwig curiously. "'She chose me'? What on earth did he mean by that?" Hedwig gave a hoot that sounded like she was amused.

Harry stopped in front of a tawny cat that was currently sleeping in a basket. It opened one bright yellow eye, and hissed warningly. Harry backed away, raising his hands in front of him. The cat rolled over onto its side, not wanting to look at Harry anymore, it seemed. Harry looked at the other cats around him, all sleeping on scratch posts, that had feathers attached to the underside of the perches. All the cats were napping, all except one. A calico kitten was staring up at him with big blue eyes. Harry smiled; _Aunt Petunia would love this kitten!_ He thought.

As if on cue, the calico kitten scrambled up his pant leg, and swayed unsteadily on his shoulder. Harry smiled gently at the kitten, and he picked it up by the scruff of its neck, and cradled it in his arms. "Hey there. I have an aunt who'd love to have you as a friend. Would you like to come with me?" The calico kitten tilted its head, and mewed softly. Harry checked the tag on its scratch-post. "I see that you're a girl. Well, I'll be taking you home with me, okay?" The kitten mewed again, but this time, she snuggled all the way up to Harry's chin, and pawed at him with her soft paws. Harry laughed, and tried to tuck in his chin. "That tickles, girl! Stop, stop!" Harry held the kitten's paws down, while he returned to the front desk.

Harry went to the Dog Den to look for a dog. He had left the sweet calico back with the witch and Hedwig. Hedwig liked the kitten, even though she tried to act like she didn't. Harry grinned at the thought. Harry knew this personally. He scanned the puppy pens that held all kinds of dogs, from black Labradors, to tiny Chihuahuas. Harry thought hard, about what Uncle Vernon would probably like. Uncle Vernon liked big dogs, he knew that. _Uncle Vernon mentioned that he liked the look of a Golden Retriever._ Harry thought about it for a second. Yes, he would get Uncle Vernon a Golden Retriever.

Harry walked from pen to pen, and at the last one, he stopped, his eyes going wide. In the middle of the pen, holding a bright blue ball in his mouth was a Golden Retriever. _But,_ Harry thought, _what made its fur look all wavy and soft, and how its big brown eyes sparkle in the few patches of sunlight! It's a good-looking, healthy dog, for sure. I'll bring him home to Uncle Vernon. _Harry walked over to the dog, but the Golden Retriever had already bounded up to the side of the pen. He dropped the blue ball at his paws, and looked up at Harry, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Harry laughed, and reached over to rub behind the dog's ears.

Harry soon returned to the front desk, with the Golden Retriever at his side. He paid once more, and quickly went back to the Owl Oasis to pick out an owl for Dudley. He finally chose a Great Horned Owl for Dudley. When he had made all his purchases, he looked at the pets he had bought and frowned. He quickly asked the witch, "Do you know how I can take them all with me?"

She thought about it, and said, "There's a spell I can do, to transport them to your home. Just write down your address, and I'll quickly send them there." She handed Harry a bit of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Harry looked at them in apprehension, and finally decided to try his best to write with it. He managed not to make a mess. He handed it back to the witch, and she transported them all to the Dursleys, all except Hedwig. Harry decided to keep her with him, because he didn't want to mix up his owl with Dudley's. He found Hagrid, and together they headed off to Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.

AN: I'm so tired of typing. But I don't want to let you guys down. I know I'd get impatient with the author, and I would stop reading the story. I just hope you can be patient with me, if I don't update for at least three days. I will type every day. I just can't guarantee that I'll update every day, or every other day. That's way too tiring. I'm sorry if I ever let you down, or if I didn't meet your standards. I'm grateful for all your support, guys, and I won't forget this story. I promise. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And, gosh, I keep getting all sappy. Something's wrong with me.

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	8. Chapter 7

AN: I know, it's been like ten days since I've last updated. Feel free to throw tomatoes. I've had my nice break, and now I have _got_ to start typing again. Oh, and there's a new poll on my profile. I would like it if you gave your opinion on what Harry's animagus form should be. Now, without further ado, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: I Hope You Think Of Me by Owl City

Chapter 7- Meeting Draco

The bell up above the door tinkled, as Harry and Hagrid entered the shop. The shop was full of racks of robes, and along one wall, mirrors were propped up on them, with stools in front of them. One of the spots was occupied by a pale, blonde-haired boy. The boy was being fitted by a little witch done up in mauve-colored robes. The boy suddenly noticed Harry at the door through the mirror in front of him. The mauve-dressed witch noticed him as well. "Stand on one of the stools, dear. I'll be with you shortly." Harry stepped onto the stool next to the blonde boy, and looked at himself in the mirror. Aunt Petunia had gone shopping, and he was wearing some of the new clothes she had bought. He wore a light green t-shirt that actually fit him, and slim jeans to go with it. He had on brand-new sneakers as well, and the boy next to him looked at him curiously.

"Are you Muggle-born?" he asked, sounding like he was nervous. Harry shook his head. "No, I'm a half-blood. I think I am, anyway." The boy nodded, looking relieved. "If you have a pureblood father and a Muggle-born mother, or vice versa, then you are. My name's Draco Malfoy, by the way."

Harry replied, "My name's Harry Potter." Draco looked surprised. Then he started to look sympathetic. "I bet you hate being famous for being the survivor, while your parents got killed." Harry smiled. At last, someone understood. "Yeah, and from what I understand, it was my mother's sacrifice that really made Voldemort-"

The witch in mauve had suddenly shrieked.

"Please don't say the name, dear. Some of us don't like hearing it." Harry looked confused. "He's gone, though. And it's just a name. If you're scared of his name, that just makes the real thing even more terrifying. If you fall into fear, it leads into hate. Hate leads to sin, which is something we'll regret doing at some point in life. Besides, the Lord will protect you from him, if you believe that He can."

The witch looked confused. "Who is the Lord? Are you talking about the Dark Lord?" Harry's eyes widened. He looked shocked. "You don't know who God or Jesus is? How could you not know? D-do you not believe?" The witch looked bemused. "Believe what?" Draco looked at Harry. "I do, I keep a secret Bible with me in my pocket. Father doesn't believe though, only me and my mother. She has a secret Bible too. Father… he hates anything to do with it. That's why they're secret. We keep everything hidden from him."

Harry smiled at Draco. "I have a secret one as well. But it won't be that secret anymore. I have a feeling we're going to be good friends, Draco." Draco grinned at Harry. He stepped down from the stool, and Harry did so as well. The witch had announced, "That's you done, my dears." Harry nodded politely to her. "Have a good day, Madam Malkin, I presume?" The witch nodded, beaming. "I'll be sure to think about what you were saying, Mr. Potter!" she called, as Draco and Harry left.

They soon met up with Hagrid. Hagrid beamed as he saw Draco. "Well, hello, Draco! How's yer mum doin'?" Draco had beamed as well when he saw Hagrid. "She's doing fine, Hagrid. How are you? Is Dumbledore still trying to put the Loyalty Charm on you?" he added in a whisper. Hagrid's eyes strayed over to Harry. Harry had a glint in his eye, and he focused his attention on Hagrid. "Hagrid, has Dumbledore been putting the Loyalty Charm on you?" he asked in a worried tone.

Hagrid shifted uneasily, looking at Harry nervously. "He's bin tryin'. I'm, er, half-giant. So the charms don' work." Draco looked at Harry, and said slowly, Harry's eyes snapping to him when he spoke, "I think that Hagrid can handle it, Harry. All he has to do really is pretend that he loves Dumbledore. He's not even that bad of an actor, and Dumbledore can't use Legilimency on him either, because Hagrid, being half-giant, is a natural Occlumens. Even my father fell for Hagrid's act. My father thinks that Hagrid loves Dumbledore, and my father hates Dumbledore. I think that's the only thing that I have in common with my father." Draco finished with a bitter laugh.

Harry looked at Draco with sympathy. "Hey, don't worry. I'm on your side with this. Just make sure to tell me about Dumbledore, Hagrid. I don't trust him at all. I'm pretty sure he wants to control me. If I'm not careful, I could end up dead."

Suddenly, they all heard a faint voice call out to Draco, "Draco dear! We're leaving now. Hurry up, and don't talk to that oaf." Draco looked at Hagrid and Harry in an apologizing way. "My mother. I guess that means my father's next to her. She's got to keep up an act, you know. I'll have to tell Father that I was mocking you for stealing a child from somebody or something. I'll see you on the train, Harry?" Harry nodded, and smiled understandingly. "I'll see you on the train. Bye, Draco."

Draco turned and walked stiffly to his parents, looking like he was trying to be dignified. Harry and Hagrid watched him for a while, before turning around and walking to Ollivander's.

AN: Thanks for reading! I appreciate that you took the time to look at this. If you don't mind, could you vote on the poll on my profile? It's about Harry's animagus form. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you aren't disappointed.

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	9. Chapter 8

AN: Once again, I hope you guys check out the poll on my profile, that concerns Harry's animagus form. We'll also be narrowing it down as we go, so Draco, Neville, and Luna's poll won't be including Harry's choice. Same with the others. After we vote which one for Neville, the remaining one will be for Luna. There won't be a poll for her. Let's see… anything else I need to mention? I can't really think of anything. So I guess I should go on with the story. Oh, wait, the songs I put on here don't really have anything to do with the chapter. They're just there for you to know a bit more about me. And for you to have something to listen to. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: You Lead by Jamie Grace

Chapter 8- Ollivander's-Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

Hagrid and Harry pulled open the heavy glass door of Ollivander's, and went inside. Well, it was more like Hagrid opened it. Harry hadn't recovered all of his strength from the ten long years he had endured at the Dursleys. Harry looked around the small shop. Towards the back, there were rows and rows of shelves, all holding hundreds of long, thin boxes. It looked a bit like a shoe-store. There was a long counter barring entrance to the shelves, and only in the middle of the counter was a swinging door, that was up to Harry's waist. Harry looked to his left, around Hagrid, and noticed that there was only one spindly wooden chair. Hagrid sat on it, and Harry raised his eyebrows, impressed that it held his weight.

A voice suddenly spoke out of the shadows. "Ah, I thought I would be seeing you, Mr. Potter." There was a loud crunching sound. Harry jumped, and spun around, to see Hagrid had jumped too, and had also smashed the chair he had been sitting on. Hagrid grinned sheepishly at Harry, and he got up slowly from the floor, taking care not to hit his head on the ceiling.

Harry turned back around and almost yelled in shock, taking a few steps backward. He had turned around, only to see a thin man with wispy white hair and silvery eyes' face, a mere few inches from his, looking at his scar, and fingering it. Harry looked at him with wide eyes, figuring out that this must be Mr. Ollivander. _He sure is creepy_, thought Harry with a shudder. Mr. Ollivander suddenly went back behind his counter, and proceeded to pull out a key hanging on a chain. He bent below the counter, and unlocked the sliding glass door, behind the display case under the counter. He pulled one of the chests from the display case, and set it on the counter.

Harry wondered why he had not seen the display case before. _There must be a spell on it_, he realized. Ollivander hurriedly gestured Harry over. He leant down and whispered in Harry's ear, making Harry shiver in the process, "I am not Dumblemort's stooge," and after he had done that, Mr. Ollivander looked at Harry curiously. He said quietly, "Griphook the goblin asked me to tell you that, and I don't really understand adding 'mort' to the end of Dumbledore's name, unless- no." He suddenly grabbed Harry's shoulders and looked at him pleadingly. "Don't tell me that Dumbledore is Voldemort? Or vice versa?" Harry looked at him sadly, and that was all he apparently needed.

Mr. Ollivander looked down for a moment, and shook his head. "He used to be such a good man. Until he met _Grindelwald_, that is. That man was a bad, very bad influence on him." Ollivander looked at Harry beseechingly. "Choose your friends carefully, Mr. Potter. You might not be able to choose your family, but the people you choose to hang around with, will soon rub off on you. You might not be a person that submits under peer pressure, but you will be saying and doing the things they say, unconsciously. Be wise, Mr. Potter. Don't be so foolish as to think that you can handle them. We are only human. Remember that there is a much wiser person up there that loves you and will fight for you. But you have brains for a reason. Use them."

He sighed. "Now, after that long piece of advice that I have given you, we need to attend to your wand problem. Like Hagrid, I pretend that I love Dumbledore. If I may so, I am not too bad of an actor. But because of that, Dumbledore has given me a wand that he says is for you to use. I am sure though, that it is not right for you to use. Neither are the wands in this shop. I will have to make you a wand. I will also make it look like the wand he was going to give you. An enchantment can do that. But this wand will be different than the wands that I usually give to wizards and witches. You are an extraordinary wizard, Mr. Potter."

Ollivander said, "Now, in this chest, are the materials you need to choose from, that I'll be making your wand with. There are four compartments, but you only need to choose from three. Gems, to help focus your concentration and center your magic, a core, usually something from a magical animal, like a feather of a phoenix, and finally, you need to choose a rune. Runes offer protection and many other things you can benefit from. I've got pictures of runes; you need only choose one." Harry looked curiously at the chest, which was engraved with runes. Ollivander opened it, and Harry saw that the materials he needed to choose from were separated into three compartments. The fourth compartment held different samples of wood, and Harry reached out a hand to touch one that had caught his interest. When he touched it, his fingertips tingled. The piece of wood glowed.

Ollivander gently pushed his hand away. "It's holly wood, but I already know that that's the wood you will need. I only need you to choose a gem, a core, and a rune." Harry nodded, and swept his gaze over the compartment that held many gems. When the light hit them, all their different colors reflected off, and hit the exterior walls. The only way Harry could explain it, was that it was like a multi-colored disco ball. Harry was mesmerized by their jewel-bright colors. He could see ocean-blue sapphires, grass-green emeralds, plum-purple amethysts, golden-yellow topazes, and much, much more. He slowly rummaged through the gems, looking for a gem that would glow when he touched it. One gem caught his eye: a fiery-red ruby. Harry slowly reached out for it.

When he finally held it in his hand, it glowed brightly, and it sent warm tendrils of heat throughout his arms. He silently handed it over to Ollivander, and began looking over the magical cores to choose from. He finally found a phoenix feather, but with emerald, silver, sunny, onyx, crimson, gold, sapphire, and bronze hues. He blinked, and thought in wonder; _they're the colors of the four founders of Hogwarts! Is there even a phoenix like that? _Harry was also surprised, when a strand of unicorn tail hair, a scale from a Hungarian Horntail, a talon from an eagle, the wing of a fairy, and a strand of a griffin's tail hair, also chose him. Ollivander had looked at Harry curiously, but with a smile. He had said that Harry would probably have some true friends that would stick with him through thick and thin.

When Harry had picked the rune for destiny and protection, Ollivander had promised that he would send his wand through owl post, by Gringotts for maximum security, just to be safe. When Harry got home, he had been hugged tightly by Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley. They had all thanked him profusely for their pets, and they had marveled and complimented Harry on his sense of taste, and Hedwig had also been hooting with pride. Harry now lay on top of his bed, everyone else having gone to sleep, and Harry quietly wondered on what Dumblemort was doing now.

AN: Phew! I think I might be tired of typing by the time this story is over. I'll probably have a month-long vacation from it. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope I did not disappoint you. Oh, and please remember the poll on my profile about Harry's animagus form. One last thing: This story is not in any way, slash. I am against it. I freely say that I am Christian. If you want to know which branch, PM me. I don't want to offend anybody. Everyone's entitled to their own beliefs and opinions. But I HATE those kinds of stories, so if you're looking for that on here, well that's what you get on. I won't say anything against you. But you won't find anything like that on here. This story _will_ have Soul-Bonds on here. However, this will be my view of it. It won't be like any other story. This will hold my opinion on what love really is. And it will show you more on what kind of person I am, and proud to be. If you have a problem with that, fine. But I won't be changing my beliefs, opinions, or the way I live my life, on what you guys say about me. I'm sorry if I offended some of you, and I'm sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings. But that is my final say on the matter. Have an awesome day, you guys. And thanks again for taking the time to review.

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	10. Chapter 9

AN: Hello again! Today was the first day of school. I think I was a nervous wreck the first hour. I expect that I'll have to update every three days. I'm happy to say that we'll be encountering some juiciness in this chapter. Oh, and my sister said that it would be really funny if you guys thought I was a boy. I told her that I was pretty sure that you guys got the memo, if any of you read my profile. She said that I should confirm it on here anyway. So here's your memo: I _am_ a girl. Oh, and don't worry about Gred and Forge. I know when they'll pop up in the story. Thank you for voting on the poll, to those of you that did. It will be closed now. I really have to put Neville's poll up on there. I'm sorry for the update being slow; I had a lot of homework, and it was _**impossible**_ for me to even get on the computer! Alright, now on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Me Without You by TobyMac

Chapter 9-The Hogwarts Express

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was excited. He was also wary of what might happen, because Dumblemort did live at Hogwarts. But Harry felt a strange connection to the school, as if he was going to meet a friend he had long forgotten. Abandoning his thoughts on the matter, he hurried and got dressed. In the Welcome to the Wizarding World book he had gotten from Griphook, Harry found out that to get on the Hogwarts Express, you had to go through the pillar between Platform 9 and Platform 10. When he came downstairs, Snitch rushed at him. Snitch was Aunt Petunia's calico kitten. Aunt Petunia had decided that she would call the little kitten Snitch, in honor of Lily's sewing pattern.

Uncle Vernon had called his Golden Retriever, Mike, in honor of a famous boxing champion. Harry didn't know much about boxing, but he took Uncle Vernon's word for it. Dudley, however, had thought the Great Horned Owl he had gotten needed a cool name, one that would fit his history. So Dudley being Dudley named him Fang. Apparently, the fact that Great Horned Owls don't have fangs didn't matter to him.

Griphook had sent him his Gringotts card, and also his wand. Harry had been ecstatic to see his wand, maybe because he had never had his own wand. _It had looked spectacular_, thought Harry, smiling at everyone when he walked into the kitchen. Uncle Vernon set down his newspaper and beamed at him. Harry had forgotten that Uncle Vernon was still happy that Harry had thought of him and Aunt Petunia in the pet store, and not just Dudley. Harry grinned at Uncle Vernon, sat down at the table, and Aunt Petunia promptly slid a plateful of waffles with melted butter and maple syrup over it in a spiral.

Once Harry had finished eating, that was when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had begun to start looking worried. Dudley had started to look pensive as well, and he kept glancing at Harry, as if he was worried that if he left his eyes off of Harry for more than a few seconds, he would disappear forever. Harry finally grew restless, when nobody seemed to be able to say anything, he said, "Is this about Dumbledore?" The silence gave him their answers. "I thought I told you that you didn't need to worry. I got us two-way mirrors, so you can contact me anytime, and I know what Dumbledore will do. I'll just have to be smarter than he is. The political lessons you and Griphook gave me, Uncle Vernon, will help me with the Ministry of Magic. There's no reason for you guys to worry."

There was an odd kind of silence now, like there was a thick blanket surrounding the Dursley family. They seemed to be talking silently to each other, without actually speaking. Harry raised an eyebrow in bemusement. All of a sudden, Aunt Petunia threw her arms around him. Harry was startled, but hugged her back, emotion welling up in his chest. Uncle Vernon, Harry noticed from around Aunt Petunia's shoulders, had an emotion in his eyes, a look that used to be reserved for Dudley, until very recently. After a few moments, Aunt Petunia stepped back, wiping her eyes. "Be careful, alright, Harry? Promise me. Promise that you'll at least try?" Harry bit his lip and nodded slowly. Dudley came around Aunt Petunia. He brought his arms around Harry in a half-hug, clapping him on the back as he did so, apparently trying to do a manly hug. Harry smiled sadly at all of them.

When they reached the train station, it seemed to Harry that they were purposely trying to make the journey to the Platform longer. Harry finally said quietly to Aunt Petunia, "Aunt Petunia, if I don't hurry, I'll miss the train. How can I begin to fix the Wizarding World, if I miss the train that will lead me to the very heart of it?" Aunt Petunia looked sheepish, and she quickly turned around and whispered a few words into Uncle Vernon's ear.

Harry waved one last time to the Dursleys, after they had all given him hugs, and taking a deep breath, which didn't really do anything to help the feeling in his stomach, he ran forward into the brick wall that was the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. When he suddenly heard hundreds of voices all blending in together, steam rising in puffs, and the squeaky sound of compartment doors and window being slid back, he opened his eyes. He blinked in amazement, and he quickly turned back to see the brick wall shimmering back into place, and he saw the Dursleys waving one last time at him, and he smiled. He started to raise his hand to wave back, but the wall had already sealed shut. He had one tiny glimpse of Aunt Petunia taking out a handkerchief, and wiping her eyes with it.

Harry took a deep breath and turned around. Immediately, he caught sight of a scarlet train, and on the pilot, Harry saw a familiar sight. Just like the wax seal on Harry's letter, the badger, the serpent, the lion, and the eagle were all entwined or surrounding a large letter H. Suddenly, Harry felt his ring burn, just like the time when he was talking to Draco. It was the reason that Harry had even bothered to talk to him. Harry turned around, thinking that one of his true friends must be around here.

The only kid that got his attention was a boy who looked nervous, as his grandmother (Harry thought she was, anyway.) began lecturing him. "Neville, how many times have I told you not to lose your toad? It's your own fault that he's gotten loose, anyway. You probably weren't taking care of him as well as you were supposed to." Harry was shocked at what the old lady had to say about her own grandson, and listened carefully at the younger boy's reply. "B-but it wasn't my fault, Gran! I had Trevor right in my pocket the whole time! I put my hand over it and everything! Trevor's just too good at escaping; it's got nothing to do with me, h-honest!" Harry smiled to himself, thinking, _good for you, Neville! _

But Harry frowned once more, when he heard the old lady's last retort. "Nonsense, Neville. I don't know why you bother trying to make excuses." Harry made a move to get over to where they were standing, but there was suddenly a loud whistle. Children were hurrying onto the train, and hanging out of the windows to wave goodbye to their parents. Harry quickly lifted his trunk-manor, which was surprisingly light. Griphook had told him that his trunk had a Feather-light Charm on it, but Harry had still thought that it would just lessen the weight to something he could carry. He hadn't known it would be weightless.

When Harry had found a compartment, Draco was inside. They quickly caught up with each other on what had happened since Diagon Alley, after Draco had helped Harry put up his trunk. Harry quickly sat down on his seat, and looked out of the window. Thick, wild shrubbery, gnarled-looking trees, and dead grass whooshed by in a blur. Harry had only been watching the scenery for a few minutes, when the compartment door slid open. Harry and Draco turned their heads around so fast, they cricked their necks. Rubbing it, and eyes watering, they looked at the person who had entered. It was Neville, looking nervously at them.

Neville stammered out, "M-may I s-sit here? Everywhere else is f-full." Harry nodded kindly at him, and said, "Hello, Neville. Of course you can sit here." Harry watched as a look of great relief washed over Neville's face. "Thank you!" Neville said in a grateful voice, and he hurriedly put his trunk up on the shelf above their heads, with Harry's help, and sat across from Harry and Draco. Looking curiously at him, he asked, "How did you know my name?"

Harry smiled brightly at Neville, and said cheerfully, "Oh, my parents told me that your mother was my godmother, so that means we're godbrothers!" Neville had so many ranging emotions on his face, Harry thought amusedly. Astonishment, excitement, puzzlement, and sadness were a few. Finally, Neville replied, "What do you mean, 'my parents told me'? I th-thought your p-parents were-" Harry paused for a second, and then he leaned forward, as if to tell Neville a secret. Quietly, he whispered, "Well, my parents left me a special trunk at my aunt and uncle's house, before they died. It's a special trunk, because when you open it, a whole staircase fits inside, and it leads you into a mansion! It doesn't teleport you, or anything like that, but my father said it was a trunk version of Potter Manor! My parents have a portrait inside of it, in the living room. That's what I meant, when I said that they told me your mother is my godmother. My mum said that she was best friends with your mum. Did you know that?"

Neville had been looking more astonished, with each passing second, and it finally clicked into his head on what Harry had just said. He looked at Harry in a pensive way. "Do you know what-" Harry interrupted him. "Yeah, I know what happened to your parents," he said softly. "I'm here for you, Neville. That's what godbrothers are for." Neville looked at Harry, his eyes shining. "I'm-"

Suddenly the compartment door slid open, and Harry's ring started to glow. Neville glanced at it, and his eyes lit up with recognition. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the door. Draco was already glaring at the people who had entered. Harry shoved his hand into his pocket, before facing the boy and girl at the door. The boy had red hair, bright flaming red, and he had blue eyes, that were looking at Harry in a way that Harry didn't like. Harry also noticed a black smudge on his long, freckled nose. The girl next to him had bushy brown hair, teeth that stuck out just a little bit, and a haughty, snobby look that Harry usually associated with the girls at his old school, girls who would pass by, and wrinkle their nose at him. Harry didn't like the girl beside the red-head either.

The red-head said suddenly, "You must be Harry Potter. I'm Ron, Ron Weasley. This is Hermione Granger. We're your friends, so I reckon that we should find another compartment, and not hang around cry-babies like _him, _or Dark wizards-in-training like _Malfoy_." Ron added this in a loud whisper, looking pointedly at Neville and Draco. Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron, and glanced at Hermione. She raised her eyebrows at him, almost as if she was challenging him. She said in a know-it-all voice, "_Well? _Come on, let's hurry up! I've got to tell you all about Hogwarts, 'cause since you grew up with Muggles, and I bet you don't know _anything_ about the Wizarding World. Don't worry though; I know _everything_ there is, and you can just listen to me."

Neville stood up, all of a sudden, and he said fiercely, "What makes you guys think that you are his _friends_? You sound too bossy and snobby to be any _real_ friends." Draco was nodding his head, looking just as fierce as Neville. Ron sneered at them. "And what are _you_, you whiny little crybaby? What gives you any _right_ to talk to us, the best friends of the _Boy-Who-Lived_?" Harry suddenly stood up, and he looked so menacing, that Ron and Hermione took a step back, looking at him warily. Harry looked at each of them in turn, glaring angrily at them. He said quietly, "I'm not friends with people who call my other friends names. If you guys were any kind of friend of mine, you'd know that I hate that name. The _Boy-Who-Lived_," Harry said mockingly. "It's stupid. I don't like being reminded of the fact that my parents are dead. So I suggest that you get out."

Ron and Hermione looked at him, their stares filled with disgust. "Fine, if that's the kind of people that you're _friends_ with. But you're making a mistake, Potter. Hang around with riff-raff like that, and you'll go the same way as your parents." Harry saw a flash of silvery-blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, and before he knew it, Ron was hunched over, holding his hands in front of his face, sporting a black eye. Neville had jumped forward, and he was currently holding Draco back, as he tried to get in another punch at Ron. Draco struggled, saying, "Lemme go, Neville. Let me at him, I'll tear him to bits! How dare he say that about Harry's parents, after they gave up their lives, so Harry could live! So that the Wizarding World could be at peace! Does that even matter to you?"

Hermione looked a bit abashed, but it soon changed into a roll of her eyes. Ron looked loathingly at Draco and Neville, and with a final disgusted glance at Harry, he and Hermione stalked out of the compartment. The door closed with a bang. After a moment, they all sat back down, looking at each other silently. Harry finally said, his eyes a storm of swirling emotions, "Thanks for standing up for me, you guys. You are my true friends. Would you stick by my side like that, no matter what?" Neville and Draco looked at Harry, drawing themselves up, straightening their backs. Draco cracked his knuckles menacingly, and said, "If anyone messes with you, Harry, tell me, and I'll have a private word with them. I'll tell them that it's a very bad idea, a very, VERY bad idea." Neville nodded. "I'm with you Harry and I'll be there for anything you need. I'll be there for you through thick and thin, snow and rain, day or night. That's what godbrothers are for, aren't they?"

Harry grinned at them, trying not to show his emotions, except for gratefulness. He repeated a similar vow to them, and after he finished, a golden light came out of all of their hearts. Draco muttered softly to himself, "Why is there a cheesy light coming out of my chest? This is too much like a children's tale. It's so awkward." Neville elbowed him gently, and said, "Just live in the moment. I think this occasion calls for a cheesy moment, don't you think?" Draco shrugged. The lights came out of their chests, and they all flew towards the middle, all coming together to become one big ball of golden, sparkling light. With a final pulse, it shattered into millions of particles of twinkling light that faded into their skin.

With a final look at each other, they started to say something, but after a glance outside, they saw that it was getting dark, and so, they changed into their robes. They waited silently for the train to stop, so they could finally step into Hogwarts.

AN: I hope I did not disappoint you with the chapter. I wrote parts of this over the week, and I wrote most of the train ride on the weekend. I had lots of homework, so I think I'll only be able to get one chapter out a week. I'm sorry about that. But I will be typing over the weeks, so on the weekends, I'll be able to post it on time. Just be patient with me, if I don't make it on time. I'm in eighth grade now, so more work, less time, and I need more sleep. Like one of my friends at school says, just deal with it. I'll see you next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	11. Chapter 10

AN: Neville's poll is up on my profile. So far, 1 person has voted for a griffin. This chapter is about the Sorting, and only the Sorting. I will split this story in many sections, so it will be easier for me to type. Can you believe that I forgot my math textbook in my locker? When I had homework in it? I've been so stressed lately; I'm looking forward to the weekend again. Now, without further ado, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: There's A Place For Us by Carrie Underwood

The Legendary Sorting

Harry, Draco, and Neville sat in a boat together, after they said their greetings to Hagrid. Hagrid had sent a secret nod at Harry, so that Harry knew that Dumbledore couldn't do anything to him if he was Sorted elsewhere. Of course, it was obvious that Dumblemort wanted Harry to be in Gryffindor. Harry's parents had been in Gryffindor, and everyone else was expecting that Harry would follow in their footsteps.

Harry wasn't planning on it, however. To him, Gryffindor seemed like the house of people who like to show off; the house of people who didn't think before they jumped in; the house of people who sounded like they worshiped Dumblemort. Harry didn't want to be Sorted into a place like that. Neither did Draco or Neville. Neville had told Harry and Draco that his grandmother had at first wanted him to go there, because his father had been in Gryffindor. But his mother had been in Ravenclaw, so his grandmother didn't mind where he ended up, as long as it wasn't in Slytherin or Hufflepuff.

Harry almost wanted to go into Slytherin, just to see what Dumblemort would do, and to see the rest of the school's reactions. It seemed to Harry that the Slytherins were the misjudged, the misunderstood, the victims, and the people who were in a bad situation, but who no-one wanted to help. They seemed like the people who would lash out at everyone who came near them, because people would only ever get near to stab them in the back, so why not do the same, before they got a chance?

Harry turned his thoughts to Hufflepuff. _They're pretty good_, thought Harry. _Sometimes, anyway. The rest of the time, everyone thinks they accept everyone, but deep inside, they're just as prejudiced as anyone else. And they also seem to be a bit gullible, like they would believe anything that people told them. _Harry sighed; apparently, Hufflepuff couldn't be the one either; they seemed likely to worship Dumblemort as well. The Slytherins, even though it wasn't their fault, would also tend to go to Voldemort too. Harry wanted to be somewhere that was neutral. Somewhere that would help Harry on the path to defeating Dumblemort.

Harry voiced this thought with Neville and Draco, quietly, so that no-one would overhear them. Currently, they were inside Hogwarts, standing in a small antechamber off the grand Entrance Hall. All the other students were clustered around them; some trying to catch Harry's eye (mainly giggling girls), and others trying to make themselves as small as possible, because Hogwarts was pretty big after all. _It had to be a little overwhelming_, thought Harry.

Suddenly, the doors opened, and a stern-looking witch in emerald robes strode towards them. "We are ready for you, now," she informed the first years, and she led the way into the Great Hall.

The first thing that Harry noticed was the ceiling. He had read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_, but seeing the actual thing made you want to practice dropping your jaw. Draco looked a bit stiff, and Neville was a little pale. Harry himself, wanted to go somewhere so he could puke, because the way that Dumblemort was looking at him, made Harry grit his teeth. Fortunately, Harry was good at acting from the ten, miserable years at the Dursleys. Harry rearranged his face to look nervous, but excited; a look that was typical for a brand new first year to have.

One by one, Professor McGonagall, for that was the stern witch's name, called out the names of students in alphabetical order. It soon came to the M's. "Malfoy, Draco!" she called out. Draco went up to the stool shakily. With trembling arms, he put the Sorting Hat over his head, and gripped the stool tightly. It was a few minutes, before the Hat called out in a loud voice, "RAVENCLAW!" Harry noticed many people had begun to blink, before they turned to each other and shrugged.

Neville had gone before Draco, and he had ended up in Ravenclaw, something that Draco was evidently pleased about. He didn't look worried or anxious at all. Harry only knew this was because the Malfoys would only ever tolerate Ravenclaw and Slytherin. _It would still be a blow, though, nonetheless_, thought Harry. _All the Malfoys have been in Slytherin, and only a few were in Ravenclaw. _Harry was snapped out of his thoughts, when his name was called.

"Potter, Harry!" All of a sudden, there was a great silence. It was like a radio that had been buzzing, trying to get a signal, but all of a sudden, it just died. _It was like that_, Harry though, _exactly like that_. So, with a touch of annoyance that didn't show on his face, he calmly walked over to the Hat, gently picked it up, and placed it on his head. Thankfully, it covered his eyes, but Harry still caught one last glimpse of people scooting forward on the benches, trying to get a better look at him.

_Ah, Mr. Potter. I see that Griphook has informed you of everything? _

_Yeah, you know Griphook?_

_Oh, yes. We go a long way back, we do. All the way back to the Founders, you know. Goblins have a longer life span than wizards do, did you know that? Yes, Griphook managed all four of the Founders' accounts._

Harry blinked as well as he could under the Hat. He hadn't known that! No wonder Griphook knew so much! He went all the way back to the Founders' time!

_Now, Mr. Potter, I do believe that it is time for your Sorting, despite the pleasant chat we were having._

_Okay. Do you have any advice for me, before you yell out my House?_

_As a matter of fact, I do, young Mr. Potter. It is this: Be careful around Dumblemort, Mr. Potter. He has a darker past than any of us could have ever dreamed of._

Before Harry could ask what the Hat meant, the Sorting Hat had already shouted out, "RAVENCLAW!" Harry felt the Hat slip off his head, as Professor McGonagall scanned the list in her hand for the next person. Harry caught a few words of what the Sorting Hat was saying to him.

_Good luck, Mr. Potter. You will need it._

AN: Yay! I got it updated on time! I was really worried for a moment, because I really couldn't see how I was going to type this up. The Sorting scene was done many times, so I thought I should just get this over with. That's one major thing out of the way. And yes, Harry is a Ravenclaw. There was a poll on this very issue, and Ravenclaw had won. Neville's poll is also closed. I know it says at the beginning that it was just posted, but I typed this chapter over the week, so Neville's poll has been up for a week. It is closed now. Draco's is up, however. Remember, whatever you choose for Draco will be his, but the remaining one will be Luna's. Oh, and I decided that Hermione and Ron should be in Gryffindor, with the rest of the Weasleys, except for Fred and George. With my description of Gryffindor and Slytherin, I decided that I couldn't go back and change it. So, till next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	12. Chapter 11

AN: Hey guys! It's Labor Day, so I don't have any school! (Jumping for joy) So, I thought that I could give this chapter to you as a type of celebration. Thank you for all of the reviews; I'm sorry that I won't be able to reply to you personally. I don't think I'd be able to catch up, what with school and all. So at the start of every chapter, I'll just thank you all. I'm kind of sad about that; I don't being like other authors. I like doing it my way. But on to other news. Draco's poll will be up for just this week. Then it's going down, and Draco's and Luna's animagus forms will be decided. This chapter might be a little bit short, by the way. I don't know yet. However, just concentrate on enjoying it. Hopefully. Oh, and in honor of Labor Day, thank you to all the men and women that work hard to make the U.S. a better country. And thank-you to all the other men and women in the world that work hard to make their countries better countries. God bless you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Speak Life by TobyMac

Breakfast in the Great Hall

When Harry woke up the next morning, he clearly remembered the night before of the Sorting. After the Hat had shouted out "RAVENCLAW!", Harry had walked over to the Ravenclaw table with a wide grin on his face, and to the cheers of the Ravenclaws. All of them had patted him on the back, and one first year named Luna Lovegood, had told Harry with a dreamy expression, that being in Ravenclaw would help him avoid the Wrackspurts that were usually infested around the Headmaster's office, and the Gryffindors. Harry grinned at the thought; maybe that Lovegood girl had been onto something there.

After all, the Gryffindor table had been staring rather disappointedly at Harry, and a few had even been glaring at him. Everyone else, even the Slytherin table, had clapped for him. Perhaps they had been as excited as Harry to see a Potter to be Sorted somewhere else other than the over-used Gryffindor. Harry smirked when he remembered the staff's faces. Professor McGonagall had been smiling proudly at him. Harry knew she had been one of his parents' favorite teachers, and someone that they trusted. He also knew that she wasn't one of Dumbledore's stooges. However, he wasn't sure if she knew about Dumblemort being Voldemort.

_On to the next teacher_, Harry thought. There was a tiny wizard that Harry later found out to be his Head of House and Charms professor, Professor Flitwick. He too had been beaming at Harry, and was a favorite of his mother. He also wasn't under Dumblemort's thumb. Professor Sprout, the little plump witch that looked good-natured, had winked at him, and even gave Harry a thumbs-up! He supposed that none of the professors really liked Gryffindor, or the Headmaster. _They probably tried to act like they did, like Hagrid does_, thought Harry.

Eventually, Harry got to Professor Snape, who had greasy-looking hair, eyes that looked like they had seen a lot and an unreadable expression on his face when he looked at Harry. It wasn't hate or loathing, but it wasn't happiness and just, just…. Harry snapped his fingers to himself. He whispered, "Light bulb…" He had had a look of pride in his eyes, but he was careful to keep it off his face. Harry had heard rumors of Professor Snape. He was supposedly a very strict teacher, and it was a well-known fact that he loathed Gryffindors. _Good thing I'm not a Gryffindor_, thought Harry in relief.

Harry shook off his thoughts, when he saw the other boys rising sleepily from their beds, while some, like a boy named Michael Corner, just flopped back into their pillows. He grinned over at Neville and Draco; Draco just getting out of bed, while Neville had just come out of the shower, fully dressed but still drying his hair with a towel.

When the trio got down to the Great Hall, they sat at the front close to the staff's table. Harry immediately noticed that Dumblemort wasn't there. Hagrid and the rest of the staff were though, and Hagrid just looked over at Harry worriedly, mouthing out that Dumblemort was probably trying to calm down and rescue his plans, or what was left of them, before he got down to breakfast. Hagrid also mouthed out that Dumblemort might confront Harry soon, so that he should be on his guard the whole day. Harry nodded silently back at Hagrid, to show that he had gotten the message. Neville and Draco had also seen it, but to make sure that the other students didn't get suspicious, they waved their hands in greeting to Hagrid, which he returned. However, he accidently knocked over Professor Flitwick into his bowl of porridge, when he tried to raise his hand.

When Professor Flitwick raised his face from the bowl, it was hard not to laugh. Strawberry slices slowly slid onto the floor with a _splat!,_ and Professor McGonagall waved her wand once, her mouth in a thin line, obviously suppressing the laughs that tried to escape her. Professor Flitwick's face was instantly clean of porridge, and the strawberry slices on the floor were nowhere in sight. Harry, Neville, and Draco were all laughing uproariously at the whole incident, and a flushed Hagrid desperately tried to make amends. Professor Flitwick waved off his apologies, and Draco would swear that he had heard him mutter, "Happens every year, anyway, might as well look forward to it."

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and almost everyone jumped out of their seats, while a few timid first-years screamed. Harry turned around to look, knowing for sure that it was Dumblemort.

It was.

He looked like he was trying to stay calm, but there was a cold fury clear to all, in his icy blue eyes. His long white beard sparkled here and there with drops of perspiration. His robes were a garish shade of swampy green, with hideous orange stripes. Dumblemort kept pushing his half-moon glasses up his crooked nose, but they kept sliding down. His face was a faint shade of red, which made him look like he was holding his breath, or look like he was angry. It was a sight to behold, was the main thought going over in the minds of the people in the Great Hall. Harry, Neville, and Draco looked like they didn't know whether to laugh or hide under the table.

The trio held their breath in fear, as Dumblemort headed straight to them. When he stopped right in front of Harry, Harry tried not to wrinkle his nose at the stench that was coming from Dumbledore's robes. It was tangy and revolting; the disgusting combination of lemon drops and sweat, mixed with a faint scent of woolen socks. Harry peered up at Dumblemort with a matter-of-fact look on his face. He had decided long ago that he would try this tactic, because it usually worked so well. The tactic was to wound the person up through verbal and witty comments, and then the person would be too frustrated and distracted to really concentrate on what they were doing, often resulting in them making a mistake, which could be used as an advantage for the other side.

What Harry said at that moment would go down in history, in the Wizarding World, and at Hogwarts. Most people would remember with awe, some with a shake of the head, and yet others that would recall it with a laugh. Harry said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Most people would take a bath, if they ever smelled like that, Professor. But I guess that you're not most people, are you?" It sounded like a giant vacuum cleaner, when all of the inhabitants of the Great Hall gasped altogether.

Dumblemort blinked once, and then his eyes grew into furious slits, like the eyes of an angry cat. All the while, he tried to maintain a grandfatherly pose. "I suppose you're right, my dear boy. But I had a rather rough night, because of you. I was expecting you to be in Gryffindor, like your wonderful parents. It was a shock to see you in Ravenclaw, even though it is an acceptable House. I was thinking that you might be a little disappointed not to be where your parents are, so I thought I would give you another chance to go into Gryffindor. You'd have another connection to your parents. You would be re-Sorted. Come now, Harry. I'll show you the way to my office."

And with that, Dumblemort started to walk out of the Great Hall, but he stopped, when he heard no footsteps behind him. He slowly turned to look back at Harry. Misunderstanding him, he said reassuringly, "Don't worry, Harry; your breakfast will still be here, when you get back. Maybe even a better breakfast, over at the Gryffindor table, where your friends Miss Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley will be waiting for you." Harry replied politely, but firmly, "You misunderstand me, Professor. I have no intention of being re-Sorted. I am quite content to be in Ravenclaw, the House of the Wise, the Witty, and Wrackspurt-free." He added the last part to Luna, with a wink. She beamed back at him. He turned back to Dumblemort, who was looking quite shocked. "So, thank-you for the offer, Professor, but _no_ thank-you."

After a few moments of reigning silence, Dumblemort strode out of the Great Hall, without another word. And chatter and laughter soon began to fill the Great Hall once more.

AN: Wow! I wrote more than usual. I guess I was wrong about the chapter earlier. I hope you guys enjoyed the first part of Dumblemort's plans going to ruin! Till next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	13. Chapter 12

AN: It's the weekend again! I've finished my math homework, and I am ready to start typing up Chapter 12 of Harry's tale. Poor Harry, Dumblemort will just keep on bugging him and trying to manipulate him, until Harry can checkmate him once and for all. I will be splitting Harry's tale into seven installments, just like in reality, but the books will be longer. It's already Chapter 12, but it's only Harry's first class, get it? It's easier on me to type up, and it means more things for you to read. I love really long fanfics; it's just so much fun to read. Draco's poll is also closed. The Hungarian Horntail won by one vote. 2 people voted for a unicorn. But three voted for the Horntail. Luna shall be the unicorn, since it's the one left. I have another poll for you guys to do, though! Which two colors do you find ugly? This is for Dumblemort's robes! Oh, and the song for this chapter, is REALLY good. Now, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Over My Head by The Fray

Potions Class- The Not-So-Important Houses of Hogwarts

When Harry got to his first class of the day, he found out that it was Potions. He looked pleased to everyone who saw him in the corridor; Harry really was pleased to go to Potions, for he was sure that Professor Snape would be one of his favorite professors. Anyone who hated the Gryffindors was fine by him. After all, that would mean that they didn't tolerate people who were arrogant, cocky, and basically, rude. Harry tugged a little on his tie, trying to loosen it a bit, and in doing so; he had glanced down at it. Harry had never thought he would like blue so much. Blue was a primary color, he knew that from art class in school. But when he thought about it, blue really was a nice color. The color of the sky, and millions of other things, besides.

Harry dodged a student who had an emerald and silver striped tie on, and out of the corner of his eye, saw the Slytherin look back at him over their shoulder. He sighed to himself. Everyone kept looking at him; so great was their shock at a Potter being Sorted into Ravenclaw. Of course, everyone had thought-no-_expected_ Harry to be in Gryffindor, just like his forefathers. Harry shook his head; honestly, he couldn't see how his dad had survived in Gryffindor. Though, his mother did say that he was a little arrogant when he was younger.

_But why was my mother in Gryffindor?_ thought Harry. _She wasn't arrogant, as far as I know. _Harry ducked into the Potions classroom, as soon he saw Neville and Draco. They waved him over to their desks, gesturing at one right between them. Harry felt something stir inside of him; no-one had ever saved him a seat before. He grinned at the two of his friends, and set his stuff below the desk, while he pulled out some parchment and a few quills. He carefully got out a bottle of ink as well. The rest of the class soon filed in, as well. Harry silently groaned to himself, as he saw that they were sharing the class with the Gryffindors. He noticed that some of them threw him glares, before turning their back on him, as they started to converse with their friends.

Harry saw Draco roll his eyes, and Neville crossed his arms. With a sudden whoosh, the candles in the room dimmed, launching the room into a state of near-darkness. A few girls screamed. Harry was sorry to see that one or two had on bronze and blue-striped ties. All of a sudden, everyone was quiet. Harry glanced around; it didn't seem like anyone was breathing. The look in their eyes, made Harry pause, and look at them once more. They looked terrified, well, at least the Gryffindors did, but some of them also looked like they were hateful.

SLAM! There was a sudden bang, as the heavy door that led to the safe, lighted corridor banged shut. Something big, shadowy, and black swept away from it, like a giant bat that had just come in. It swooped up to the front of the classroom. Harry had a growing suspicion on what it was… or rather, _who_ it was. And sure enough- the bat-like creature swept up its arms to the side, like bat wings, the dark cloak it was wearing hung off it, looking exactly like it. The hood was lowered, and at the same moment, the candlelight grew brighter automatically, and the bat was revealed to be none other than their Potions Professor, Severus Snape.

Professor Snape surveyed the silent class, with his cold dark eyes. _No, not cold_, Harry thought. _There's a light at that end of the tunnel, faint, but there. Maybe Mum was right. Her old friend is still just that, a friend. A trustworthy one, I'm sure. _Professor Snape suddenly looked straight at Harry. His tunnel-like eyes pierced Harry's emerald eyes, so like his mother's, which was the thought going through Professor Snape's head right now, not that Harry knew that. _So like Lily's. Emeralds, almond-shaped emeralds_, thought Severus. He sighed mentally to himself. Harry, on a whim, raised his hand into the air. A quiet gasp ran through the room. Everyone looked at Harry, their breath caught in their throat, wondering what the Boy-Who-Lived was going to do. It hadn't even occurred to them that Harry might've wanted to ask a question!

Professor Snape's eyes lingered on Harry a second longer. "Yes, Mr. Potter?" he drawled. Harry cleared his throat. "Sir, I was wondering. Does it really matter what House we're in at Hogwarts?" Instantly, every eye in the room snapped to Professor Snape, and waited breathlessly for his answer. Every first-year was always nervous on the matter of Sorting and Houses, but if it really did not matter…

It was an answer that was clearly thought out. "No, it does not matter. Life is not based upon the House you were in during your school days. This also clearly refers to if we can have friends from other Houses. The answer is also yes. For example, I was friends with your mother, before, during, and after Hogwarts. She was a Gryffindor, and I, a Slytherin." Eyes widened at this revelation. Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. _It must've taken him a lot of courage, to admit that after so long, and to say it so publicly in front of us!_ thought Harry.

Professor Snape continued, but not after sneering at Ronald Weasley, who had said something along the lines of, "A slimy Slytherin friends with a noble Gryffindor? I knew Potter was no good; his mother was fraternizing with the enemy!"

"As I was saying, you can be friends with anyone. The Houses were just a way to help you along and to focus a bit more on your more evident abilities. For example, the Slytherins were usually from abusive families, and who had to use sneakiness and their ambitiousness more often, just to get somewhere in life." Snape paused once more, as if he was about to reveal a secret. He finally whispered, "Such as me." But everyone heard him. There was no mistake about that. Almost all of the girls were looking at him with pity, except the Gryffindors, of course. Professor Snape turned away.

"The Hufflepuffs are usually very loyal, and they can always say something that will lift up anyone's day. The Ravenclaws are always a bit eccentric, but in this case, it is a plus. They work things out with logic, and just because you are a Ravenclaw, does not mean you are bookish automatically. Anyone can be bookish. For some, books are like a friend. My father used to bully me, and abuse me, so I took comfort in the fact that I could run to another world, within my books. Books are like portals to another world. I cherished it. So, all in all, no, Mr. Potter. It does not matter what House you are in. A very good question; five points to Ravenclaw." Professor Snape ended it abruptly, looking a bit worn out. It showed in his eyes. But he did look rather pleased, Harry thought so anyway.

AN: Done. I have till next week, now. I hope you weren't too disappointed with the chapter. I also hope you guys can check out my website. It's located on my profile; it's the second one listed. Technically, all three of them are my websites, but this one goes to everybody. Thank you for taking the time to read and review (if you did) this story. Once again, you don't have to review. I'd be a hypocrite if I said you had to review. I just don't like stopping from reading, just to put in a few words. Thanks again! Till next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	14. Chapter 13

AN: Hello once again! Don't forget to vote on the poll on my profile! Which two colors do you find ugly together? I really need to think up of some of Dumblemort's hideous taste in robes, and you guys can help me! Just tell me which two colors you hate together, either by reviewing or by voting. Sadly, I am not psychic, so I cannot magically know what you are thinking miles away from me. You will have to move your mouse _over_ to my profile link, or take the time to write a review. But take your time. There's no rush. This poll will be on my profile for quite a while, while I think of other things. Now, on with Harry's woeful, but hopefully victorious, tale!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Rainbow Veins by Owl City

Transfiguration- Hermione's Embarrassment

Harry had quite enjoyed his Potions class, and he had managed to boost Neville's confidence up a little, by telling him that if he loved Herbology so much, he should give Potions the same effort, since Herbology and Potions were closely tied with one another. Indeed, for right after class, he noticed that Professor Sprout had come bustling in, holding an armful of what Harry recognized as Fluxweed from his textbook.

"There you go, Severus. That'll do for about two weeks. Mind, when you're close to running out, you'd best come to the greenhouses yourself, and pick them. You know how much you'll need." Harry, Draco, and Neville heard Professor Snape reply, "Thank you, Pomona. I will indeed come and pick them, when I start to run out. The Fluxweed will come in handy for my fourth years."

Harry, Draco, and Neville scurried out of the way, when Professor Sprout came back out of the classroom, almost bumping into them, as she headed outside once more, clearly not wanting to stay away from her greenhouses longer than necessary. Harry and Draco looked over at Neville. Neville rolled his eyes at them, retorting, "Okay, I get it! I'll try harder at Potions. It can't be that different from cooking; you have to add in ingredients at certain times and all that. Suppose Professor Snape's not so bad after all," he added in a low whisper. Harry and Draco smiled at him; Draco did because Professor Snape was his godfather. Harry had smiled for an obvious reason, not yet known to his friends.

Harry, Neville, and Draco's next class was Transfiguration. Yet again, Harry was treated to more stares in the corridors, mostly because word of the question he had asked, had spread through Hogwarts like wildfire. Now, most of the students kept fingering their ties, and a few of them, who color-coded their clothes with House colors, kept glancing down at them with an unsure look on their face. People were also whispering about Professor Snape, as Harry soon found out. He was pleased to see that people were starting to warm up to the lonely professor, even if it was just a little. However, the Gryffindors were as stubborn as ever, holding onto the past, which weighed them down like rocks in a plastic bag. Not that any of them knew what plastic was, except for the muggle-borns and a few of the half-bloods.

When the trio got to Transfiguration, they saw that Ron and Hermione were already there, gesturing for Harry to sit between them. When Harry didn't move, Hermione got up and came over. Neville and Draco tensed, looking between Harry and Hermione, not knowing what to do.

Hermione looked at Harry, smiled, and stuck out her hand. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Would you like to sit with me and Ronald?" Harry, for a moment, just gazed at Hermione, and glanced down at her hand. His green eyes slowly looked up at Hermione's face, and her smile faltered for a second. Neville, looking at Harry, and back to Hermione, muttered, "What are you doing? Trying to start over, are you? That's not possible; you and _Ronald_ already ruined it on the train ride."

Draco added, "So, no thanks, Granger. Now, run off to your boss Dumbles and your Ronald, like a good little harpy, now." Hermione turned bright pink, and her brown eyes flashed at Draco furiously, before she whipped around, and headed back to Ron. Professor McGonagall was not in the room at the moment, but a cat with odd markings around its eyes was. The cat peered at Draco for a while, before purring at him, which startled Draco.

Harry and Neville stifled their laughs, but Draco heard a snicker that escaped from Neville, and he turned around to look at them so fast, that he cricked his neck. Rubbing his neck, and eyes watering, he glared at Harry and Neville, who had burst into peals of laughter, when the cat leaped onto Draco's desk, making Draco fall out of his seat. The cat put a paw over its muzzle, looking like it was trying not to laugh as well. Draco looked at the cat mutinously, as he got up from the stone floor, shakily.

"That's right, go ahead and laugh, you mangy cat. But one of these days, I swear I'll-" Suddenly, he broke off, and Harry and Neville's eyes widened. The cat had leapt into mid-air, and in a twisty blur of color, the cat had morphed into a stern-looking witch with her hair tied up into a tight bun, and wearing emerald-green robes, just like at the Welcoming Feast. Draco gulped, and chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You swear you'll do _what_, Mr. Malfoy?" she pressed in a dry, amused tone. Draco stammered, "I-I-I didn't mean th-that, P-Professor, I was t-talking to the cat, I mean, you are the cat, b-but the cat made me lose my cool, and-and-and, well, I _am_ a Malfoy, I have to stay dignified!" Draco said the last part indignantly. He glared behind her, as Neville and Harry burst out laughing once more. Harry was even crying on Neville's shoulder, pounding Neville's back! Draco muttered something unintelligible, and turned away with a huff.

He shot his head straight up however, when he heard a laugh escape from the Professor as well. "Professor!" he cried in anguish. That's when Professor McGonagall started laughing outright; her eyes twinkling in merriment. When she, Harry, and Neville had finally calmed down, she wiped her tears away and said cheerfully, in a un-McGonagall-like way, "Oh dear! I suppose your father was right. Pranking is rather fun! I shall have to do Filius next!" She had directed the first comment at Harry, and Harry had immediately sat up straight, his eyes bright.

"My dad said that you weren't one for pranks, though I'm glad you changed your mind, Professor!" Harry looked at her, grinning mischievously. Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed. "Your father said? Whatever do you mean by that, my dear?" Harry quietly explained to her about his parents' portraits in his trunk-manor. He was relieved that Ron and Hermione had stalked out earlier, because he didn't want Dumbledore finding out that he had talked to his dad.

When Harry had finished explaining about his trunk-manor, the Professor was looking a bit frightened. Harry was confused by it, before she said, "Oh, please don't tell him about my prank, Harry. Your father would smirk and tell me 'I told you so!' for the rest of my days." Harry shared a conspiratorial look with Neville and Draco, before adopting an innocent face, and saying, "I promise, Professor." Professor McGonagall looked at him, before shaking her head, and saying, "I've seen that look on James too many times, to think that you'll keep your promise. Oh well, he'd have found out anyway, sooner or later."

That was when the rest of the class soon began to come in, chattering away, not noticing a cat sneak to the front of the classroom, and leaping onto the desk. Harry, Neville, and Draco soon began to grin. Who knew McGonagall could be a prankster?

AN: Wheeeee! I always thought of McGonagall as a fun grandma, who became a scary, strict person when teaching. But I love her; the ole' Scottie. :) I hope you aren't disappointed with the chapter, and I hope you enjoyed the prank on Draco. :D I did this chapter, because I thought you guys are the best, and I was feeling sappy, and by doing this, I thought I could get rid of that cheesy feeling inside of me. And it has worked! Till next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	15. Chapter 14

AN: I had no homework today! So, I immediately wanted to get on here, and post a chapter up, to celebrate. So I think that's it, and on to the story! Oh, please remember to vote on the poll if you can. If not, just enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Honey and the Bee by Owl City ft. Breanne

Herbology- Lavender's Mistake

Harry's, Neville's, and Draco's next class was Herbology. Harry vaguely wondered if the rumors about him would die by next week. He doubted it. People would probably find something else about him to talk about.

When they got to the greenhouses, Professor Sprout was outside, ushering them into Greenhouse 1. "It's Greenhouse 1 today, chaps! After Christmas, we'll get to Greenhouse 2, thought that's if you work hard." A few students groaned. Apparently, their older brother or sister had told them that Greenhouse 3 held the more fun and interesting plants. Neville had led the way right into the greenhouse, while Harry and Draco trailed behind.

Harry sat down at a long table, with Draco and Neville on either side. The table was very dirty, and little torn bits of leaves and stems were here and there. Torn, brightly-colored petals were scattered around as well. The situation was soon taken care of, however, when Professor Sprout flicked her wand at the table, and said, "Scourgify!" Harry noticed a blonde girl with her hair in pigtails, wink at him in a slow way, almost like she was sleepy. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, like he was looking at her weird, and the girl blushed, and looked away. She had a friend beside her, who had seen Harry look at her, and she quickly whispered in her friend's ear. The blonde girl smiled, but didn't meet Harry's eyes again.

Later on in class, Professor Sprout was lecturing about the many uses of Fluxweed, and the ways it might be used for many purposes, when something hit Harry in the shoulder. He almost didn't notice it; it was light. He looked down at the floor, and saw a crumpled piece of parchment. He bent down and picked it up, glancing up at Professor Sprout. Luckily, she hadn't noticed. However, Draco and Neville had. They looked over at the crumpled up piece of parchment. Draco quickly leaned over and plucked it out of Harry's hands, to Harry's silent protest. He batted Harry's arms away. He unraveled it, and raised an eyebrow. He had a scornful look on his face, as he read on further. When he was finished, he rolled his eyes, and chucked it over to Harry. Professor Sprout still didn't notice. Neither did the other kids.

Neville was shaking his head; he had been reading with Draco. Harry was curious. He looked at the crumpled piece of parchment that had been smoothed out by Draco, and started to frown deeply, as he read more and more.

Dear Harry,

My name is Lavender Brown. I'm sure you noticed me at the Sorting; I was the first one to go to Gryffindor! The House of the brave, the noble, and the chivalrous. It's a shame that you weren't Sorted into Gryffindor; you're the Boy-Who-Lived! You defeated He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named! You're supposed to be in Gryffindor! Of course, the Sorting Hat must have gotten it wrong. Now you're stuck in boring old Ravenclaw with the bookish nerds. You should take up Dumbledore's offer to be re-Sorted into Gryffindor! Then, you won't have to be stuck hanging around with Loony Lovegood, that clumsy Longbottom boy, or that evil Malfoy, a Death-Eater-in-training. You could hang out with _me. _I'm _much_ more interesting than any of _them,_ and if you wanted, I could even be your girlfriend. All the guys would be jealous of you. How about it, Harry? Wanna be the noble prince of the hottest girl in Gryffindor, the House of the Brave, the Noble, and the Chivalrous?

Love,

Lavender Brown

Harry almost threw up. He kept his face clean of all emotion, but inside, he was boiling with anger. _How dare she?_ Harry fumed. _ I was supposed to go in Gryffindor, was I? Loony Lovegood? Clumsy Longbottom boy? Evil Malfoy, a Death-Eater-in-training? How dare she insult my friends? I'll hang out with whoever I want! And I'm eleven! I'm not even __**interested**__ in her! Stupid girl; she only sees me as the Boy-Who-Lived._ Harry suddenly had an idea; he had to be careful not to show the smirk on his face, as he wrote on the back:

Dear Lavender Brown,

Is that your name? I'm afraid I don't remember you from the Sorting at all. I was quite nervous, as I'm sure every other first year was. You say you were the first into Gryffindor? I suppose you are quite mistaken in your judgment then; as far as I can tell, Gryffindor is the House of the Arrogant, the Rude, and the Show-offs, ever since the defeat of Voldemort. I'm quite glad that I wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor, thank you very much. And I rather oppose that name, the Boy-Who-Lived. It reminds me of the death of my parents; I thank you for reminding me of that fact. And for your information, it was my mother who saved me from Voldemort. And just because everyone in my family before me was Sorted into Gryffindor, does NOT mean that I automatically belong to that House. The Sorting Hat did not get it wrong! I am quite happy to be in Ravenclaw, as it seems to be the only House that has no prejudice. I most certainly do not want to be re-Sorted. Besides, I actually _**LIKE **_hanging out with Luna, Neville, and Draco. They're my best friends! I very much doubt that you're more interesting than them. I'm not interested in you _at all_. I am not interested in any relationship; I'm only eleven! You're starting way too early, 'cause I'm pretty sure that we're still kids. I don't want anyone to be jealous of me; jealousy is a sin, and I won't try to use you as a way to get other guys jealous of me. Another thing; Houses don't matter. Didn't you listen to what Professor Snape said? Oh. And my answer is no to everything you want me to say yes to.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Draco and Neville had been reading his note to Lavender Brown over his shoulder, and after they finished reading it, they looked up and grinned at Harry mischievously. Harry smirked back at them, winked, and he crumpled up his note, waited until Professor Sprout's back was turned, and he threw the ball at Lavender's friend. She turned around; having felt something hit the back of her head. When she turned, Harry recognized her as Padma's twin. He pitied Padma; having her for a sister must be hard. _Wasn't her name Parvati or something like that?_ Harry wondered absently. Parvati picked up the note, and excitedly showed it to Lavender, who was seated right next to her. They clumsily unraveled the note, hasty in their excitement. Their shoulders were raised and tense with it. Harry, Neville, and Draco grinned, as they saw their shoulders lower, and their eager faces fade into shock and anger. They whipped around at them; Parvati sneered at them with her plait swinging around, when she turned back to the front. Lavender looked coldly at Harry; her brown eyes looked very frosty. She huffed and turned back to listening to Professor Sprout lecture on about the uses of Fluxweed.

Harry, Draco, and Neville silently snickered to themselves. Lavender had made a grave mistake, but hopefully, she had learned from it.

AN: That's all for now. I might type more tomorrow, but I honestly can't think of anything to type about. I hope I didn't disappoint you with the chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it. Till Next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	16. Chapter 15

AN: Thank you for all the reviews! I'm sorry that I didn't post my thank-you on the other chapters. I keep forgetting, and sometimes I'm too lazy to edit it, so it'll be on there. But thank-you for all the support and encouragement you give; it helps me out a lot. To rockin author812, I'm really sorry, but I have already planned out who Draco, Neville, and Harry's wives will be. I do thank you for your help, however. I get to go to the zoo tomorrow! I'm so excited, maybe almost as excited as Harry was. Oh, and I have something serious to say. Guys, I _really_ want people to go to my website. It's not about me, (Well, I do have one about me, but that's not the point!) it's just that I'm trying my hardest to reach out to people, while staying a bookworm, a quiet person, and to some, a person without a life. (Rolls eyes) Honestly, just because I don't cuss or get detentions, I'm automatically labeled, 'person who doesn't have a life'. I feel like Harry now; everyone doesn't know who _I_ am, they know who they _think_ I am. If any of you do get on my website, can you please tell me what you think of it on a review or something, sooner or later? I'm getting a bit desperate. Now, onto the tale that you so want to read, because if you skip the author's note all the time, well, yeah.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Eye On It by TobyMac

DADA- Pansy's Lame Attempt

The next and last class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, which the older students liked to call DADA. Neville had been confused at first, because he had thought they had called it their dad. Draco had then explained it to him, and he had still looked puzzled at the end of it all, but that might've been because Draco wasn't the world's greatest teacher. Harry had to explain it in the end, and Neville's confusion cleared up in an instant. Apparently, Harry was a better teacher.

When they got to DADA, everyone was already there. Professor Quirrel wasn't there yet, and currently, the Slytherins were staring at Draco, looking betrayed, but also mutinous. Harry and Neville stepped in front of Draco, shielding him from the glares that were being shot his way. Draco gently pushed them out of the way, mumbling that he could take care of himself. He grinned at them while he said it, taking the sting out of his words. Harry and Neville took a step back, understanding that Draco needed to take care of this himself.

Draco surveyed the Slytherins coolly. A girl with a pug face strode up to Draco, shrieking, "Drakie-poo! Why aren't you in Slytherin? Your father may not be furious, but I am! Didn't you want to be with me, Drakie?" Draco's expression grew chillier. He bit out coldly, "Don't call me that, Pansy. I'm in Ravenclaw, because the Sorting Hat put me there. I belong in Ravenclaw. I don't care what you think, Pansy. I never did. I'm not interested in you; I know you just want to be connected to us because we're a wealthy and well-known family. You always were a little too interested in fame and money, for my taste. Here's your hint: _stay away from me, Pansy_." Draco turned away, looking for somewhere to sit.

Pansy looked shocked and hurt; she couldn't believe that her Drakie-poo had just turned her down, and so cruelly and publicly! She gritted her teeth; no-one got away with humiliating Pansy Parkinson. She drew her wand, but in an instant, Harry and Neville had theirs trained on her. Her hand shook slightly, but the look in her eyes grew determined. She was about to call out a spell, but at that moment, Professor Quirrel entered the classroom, trembling and twitching. He stopped short of Pansy's wand, and he looked up at Pansy with a twitching eye. She hastily put it away, and sat down in her seat with a huff.

"5 p-p-points from S-S-Slytherin," he said. An ugly look came across Pansy's face; she whirled around to glare at Draco, who was at the very back of the classroom with Harry and Neville. He smirked at her, and she growled angrily. She turned back to the front with some effort. Harry, Neville, and Draco snickered to themselves. Harry and Neville both gave Draco high-fives. Professor Quirrel glanced over at them with an unreadable look in his eyes, but the trio didn't notice.

All of them had been looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sadly, it turned out to be a joke. Harry, Neville, and Draco were soon trying their best not to fall asleep. It was the first day after all. Later, however, they planned to just learn from their textbooks, the same way they would learn History. Harry didn't really see the point of History; all you ever learned about was goblin rebellions. All of a sudden, he saw a piece of paper land on Draco's desk. Draco seemed wary of it; looking over at Professor Quirrel, he took out his wand, and he waved it over the piece of paper.

When the paper shone red, he whispered a spell that sounded something like _Incendio_. The note burst into flames, and it was soon no more than a pile of ash, which Draco blew away with a small puff of breath. He looked up; Harry and Neville followed his gaze to Pansy, where she was watching them with a furious look on her face. All three of them smirked at her.

Later on in class, she tried again. This time, it was a piece of chocolate that was obviously supposed to be some type of peace offering. Draco waved his wand over it again, and it glowed bright green. He muttered under his breath, "Really? A Love Potion? Why would she have been carrying this around?" Harry and Neville had shrugged, in answer to his rhetorical question, and Draco retaliated by burning the chocolate as well. It was lucky that it was magical fire; the chocolate might've made a mess on the desk, otherwise. Pansy had not tried a third time in class, but she would try to win back Draco through any means, throughout the rest of their Hogwarts days. Sometimes, she would use the same trick, over and over again, but in different items that Draco might use daily. None of her attempts ever worked. Draco, Harry, and Neville had soon built up immunity to everything that Dumblemort, the Weasleys, Granger, and anyone else could throw at them. Professor Quirrel was watching all of this with a contemplative look on his face. It was lucky that none of the students were looking at him. It would be highly probable that some of them would've shivered, and looked away. For Professor Quirinus Quirrel had that dangerous look in his eye.

AN: Thank you for reading the chapter! I'm sorry that it's late; I had a rough week. For those of you that waited patiently, thank you for not pressuring me. I had a temporary bout of Writers' Block. Since Voldemort never existed, would Quirrel be a threat, etc. But I think I'm okay, for the time being. I'm sorry if the chapter isn't as long as you were hoping for; my River of Creativity kind of turned into a stream. Then it turned into a trickle of water. You get the idea. Once again, thank you for voting on the polls, for reviewing, being a loyal reader, putting the story on your favorites list, following me, and anything else that I forgot to thank you for. You guys are the greatest, but not because you succeeded at making me feel sappy. That's not really that awesome of an achievement. I'd say it would be a nice achievement; a start in your life. Till next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	17. Chapter 16

AN: Hey guys, I know the last chapter wasn't as good as the others. Which is why I thought I would make it up to you by giving you a really good chapter (in my opinion), and I will make it longer than usual, if I can. I can really only go up to about one thousand three hundred something words. It's my limit. I'm not in college yet, so I don't have the ability or the stamina to type up a 10,000 word chapter. It's not in me. So for the people who like a thorough explanation, there you go. By the way, can anyone tell me if they listen to the songs that I post on here in a review? Thank you, if you do. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Heartbreak Girl by 5 Seconds of Summer

Chapter 16- _Ronald's_ Lame Attempt

It had been about a week at Hogwarts, and the rumors floating around Harry were now dying down a bit. Though, there was always the ever-present awe that surrounded Harry wherever he went. Thankfully, Draco and Neville were good at convincing others to leave Harry alone if they came up for personal questions, like _were the Muggles vicious to you?_

Harry was a bit wary however. Dumblemort hadn't tried any stunts since the last one in the Great Hall, when he was trying to get Harry reSorted into Gryffindor. Ronald and Hermione hadn't talked to him either, settling for glaring at him furiously whenever they thought he wasn't looking. When they thought he was, they would act all friendly, and they were usually trying to catch his interest for whatever they were doing. Harry knew what they were trying to do; they were trying to get him to be friends with them. _Well, they won't succeed! I'm my own person; _I'll_ get to decide who I want to be friends with!_ Harry thought viciously.

When Harry got down to the common room, all of the first years were gathered around the bulletin, next to the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, who wore a stone version of the diadem that had gone missing centuries ago. The first years were chattering excitedly, but Draco and Neville had an odd look on their faces, as if they were happy, but like they wanted to hit something as well. Harry jumped the last few steps that led up to the boys' dormitories, and crossed the room over to them. They brightened up a little at the sight of Harry. Harry had brightened up when he saw them too; it was easier to face the day's challenges, when you knew your friends would be there with you.

Draco pointed to the bulletin at Harry's questioning look. He explained, "We have flying lessons." Harry beamed; he had been looking forward to flying. His brow furrowed, and he suddenly sighed. "We have them with the Gryffindors, don't we?" Draco and Neville nodded glumly. Neville looked the most anxious out of all of them. He explained at their worried looks, "Grandmum never wanted me to fly. I was really accident-prone till you guys came along, and we did that weird friendship-bond thingy."

Draco nodded. "I was close on my way to following through with Father, and not like the person my mother wants me to be. I would've been a bully, and probably in Slytherin, if it wasn't for you and Harry." Harry grinned at the two of them. "Are we done with the sappy stuff now?" he asked sarcastically. The trio laughed, and red flushes crept up the back of their necks, as they realized that they had been getting sappy. They all looked at each other, and finally, Draco commented, "We'd better get down to the Great Hall, if we don't want to turn into Weasleys." The trio laughed once more, and they headed out of the bronze door that had an eagle-shaped knocker on it and to the Great Hall for breakfast.

After they had eaten breakfast in the Great Hall, they headed outside, where the Flying Lessons were to be held. Harry, Draco, and Neville had to bite the inside of their mouth to stop from smirking, when they saw Granger surrounded by piles of books at the Gryffindor table, all dedicated to the basics and tips on flying. They all grinned at the memory. There were of course, other Muggleborns who had also been reading about Flying, but they weren't trying to manipulate Harry's life, or trying to steal his money. Harry really had to bite the inside of his mouth, whenever he thought about Dumblemort's manipulations.

It was the perfect day for Flying Lessons. It was sunny outside, but not too sunny that you couldn't see. There was a slight breeze in the air that whistled through Harry's, Neville's, and Draco's locks of hair, before it whooshed out into the Forbidden Forest. Harry was giddy with excitement; he had been looking forward to this, ever since his father had told him all about Quidditch. His mother had been warning him about the dangers of the airborne sport, but as she was in a portrait, the effect was a bit ruined. Harry had, of course, promised his mother that he would be careful, and he wouldn't take after Uncle Padfoot.

Harry's thoughts turned to his godfather, who was still in Azkaban, the Wizarding prison. Harry resolved to get him out of there, as soon as possible. He shivered when he thought about the Dementors; his mother had told him about them, and how she had learned about them from her friend, Professor Snape. Harry was also determined to get the Professor to trust him, and maybe introduce him to his parents' portrait soon. However, he would have to prove his loyalty first. Harry knew of course, that the Professor loathed Dumblemort, and that he probably knew that Dumbledore _was_ Voldemort.

Draco nudged him, and when Harry turned to look at him, he pointed to the front doors of the castle. Harry looked, and he groaned silently. A group of about ten, black-robed figures, with scarlet ties on, were headed towards them. The Ravenclaws stared at them with diligence; apparently, they were concerned with protecting themselves from the Gryffindors' insults. They had all heard about Ron and Hermione's attempts to befriend Harry, and they knew that Harry loathed them, even though they didn't know why. However, they would shield a first-year without thought. It was enough that Harry didn't like them; now, no Ravenclaw liked them at all. It was easy enough on its own. Ron was demanding, and he had an attitude. He expected everything to be handed to him on a silver platter, and honestly, his table manners were horrid!

Hermione on the other hand, was just so infuriating, to every girl in her year. She was constantly raising her hand in every class, always spouting off a textbook answer, instead of thinking for herself. She was also snobby; she assumed that only she knew everything, and that everyone else was beneath her. Moaning Myrtle didn't like her either; Hermione wasn't very tactful at times, and at those times, she could rival Ronald! Moaning Myrtle was sensitive, yes, but Hermione had been particularly cruel. A rumor had started to spread that Moaning Myrtle had compared her to Olive Hornby, and that apparently, upset Myrtle more than anything else.

After Madam Hooch arrived, she immediately began to bark orders at them, saying to pick up their brooms and get on with it. Harry immediately liked her; she was a no-nonsense person, direct, and as blunt as a knife. Sadly, a few minutes into the lesson, a girl named Mandy Brocklehurst fell off her broom, purely from sheer nerves. After Madam Hooch had accompanied her to the Hospital Wing, Ronald had picked up her flower-shaped hairclip, which had fallen off while she was on the broom.

Ronald looked around at his fellow Gryffindors, and he sneered, "Look what wittle Mandy dropped. How pathetic; these are for little babies!" The Gryffindors laughed along with him. The Ravenclaws looked furious. Harry, Draco, and Neville stepped forward. They directed their stares at Ronald. Neville said quietly, "Give that back, Weasley. It doesn't belong to you." Ronald sneered at him. "Oh yeah? I'm surprised it wasn't you that fell off of their broom; you're the clumsiest person in Hogwarts!" The Gryffindors laughed once more, and Harry could clearly see Lavender Brown snickering with Parvati Patil. He glanced over at Padma; she looked a bit betrayed, but also furious. She felt his stare, and she turned to look at him. Harry smiled pityingly at her. She shrugged, and mouthed '_Thanks_'.

Draco strode forward, until he was face-to-face with Ronald. He gritted out, "He said, give that back. Come on, _Ronald_. Oh wait, I forgot that you have to look good in front of your harpy Granger." WHAM! Draco staggered back, clutching his eye. Harry's emotions were roaring; he didn't hear anything, as he furiously stared at Ronald, who was smirking at him. Ronald smiled wickedly at Draco. "I paid you back; an eye for an eye." Draco grinded his teeth; a girl named Susan Bones took ahold of his arm, and she dragged him back into the fold of the Ravenclaws. She and her friend, Hannah Abbot, began to look over his eye, and they quickly told Neville that they were going to the Hospital Wing. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw them march Draco off to the Hospital Wing.

Ronald suddenly jumped onto his broom, and he shot to about ten feet above Harry's head. He waved the purple flower-shaped hairclip tauntingly at Harry. "You want it, Potter? Then come and get it!" Harry instantly swung his right leg over his broom, and with a deep breath, he kicked off.

Zooming off to meet Ronald, who looked flabbergasted, he relished the feeling of the wind in his hair, and the funny feeling in his stomach, which came from being up so high. Distantly, he heard cheers from the Ravenclaws, and he heard Neville shout, "You show him, Harry!" Ronald suddenly shook out of his shock, and he looked determinedly at Harry. "Looks like you can fly Potter, but can you catch this?" And with that taunt floating in the tension between them, he wheeled back his arm that held the hairclip, and he threw it.

Harry saw it rise to about fifty feet over their heads, and in slow motion that slowly gained speed, he saw it fall. He accelerated his broom, urging it to go faster. His surroundings became a blur; all his attention was focused on the hairclip, which was due to a landing in the Black Lake, if he didn't hurry. Ten seconds till it would make a splash. Five seconds. He was close enough now, to where he could see the purple flower and its shimmering center. He stretched out a hand. He caught it in a millisecond, and he was an inch from touching the water. He shot upwards, and he landed as smoothly as he could, right next to the Ravenclaws, who were chanting, "Eagles soar where others cannot climb." It didn't rhyme, but Harry liked the Gryffindors' pink faces. For some, it was a bright Weasley red.

Neville patted him on the back. "Wait till Draco hears that you showed Ronald." Harry grinned at the thought; Draco would probably be irritated that he didn't get to see it in person. He mentioned this to Neville, and Neville smirked. Harry didn't need to ask, to know that Neville would be taking this opportunity to rub it in Draco's face. Draco did it often enough to where Neville would take any advantage he got. It was almost Slytherin-like.

"HARRY POTTER!" Harry whirled around, and with a sinking heart, he saw Dumblemort, and all four Heads of Houses, rushing towards him.

AN: Thanks for reading! Sorry if it's a bit late. I hope you're satisfied; I made it longer than usual. Thank you again for being loyal readers. Till next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	18. Chapter 17

AN: I apologize for keeping you all waiting for like three weeks. I had Writer's Block, an essay, a book report, and I've been feeling really stressed lately, because I have so many other stories that I'm supposed to be working on as well. So anyway, I was also reading a bit of fanfiction, 'cause apart from writing it, I like to read it. I read my own story, and it kind of sounded a bit cheesy, which was why I'm putting a whole new twist in this story. It's not as fun when Harry already knows about Dumbledore, 'cause there's not enough room for us to scream and shout and curse Dumbledore with our imaginary wands. And I was also wondering why hormones had to exist. They just make my brain hurt, and create problems for me. And now I'm rambling, when you really just want to get to the story. Sorry. On with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: Glowing by Nikki Williams

Chapter 17- Harry's Dream

Harry gulped nervously as he looked at the four Heads of Houses rushing towards him, along with Dumblemort. Dumblemort's eyes flashed in the sun, and his long white beard twinkled here and there. His long robes were even more hideous than before. It was an electric pink, with a dirty yellowy-color design plastered all over it. They slightly resembled lightning bolts, and Harry smoothed out the hair covering his scar. He had to wonder if Dumblemort wore it for that reason.

Neville gripped Harry's arm in support, as the Ravenclaws waited for the Professors to reach them in baited breath. The Gryffindors were looking a bit frightened; after all, what if they had seen Ron taunting Harry? They would be punished for sure by Professor McGonagall, who didn't tolerate bullying from her own House.

When the teachers started to get closer, all of the Ravenclaws formed a wall right in front of Harry and Neville. The teachers looked surprised, while the Gryffindors tried to sneak away behind McGonagall's back. All of a sudden, Professor McGonagall's face twitched, and she whipped around to see the Gryffindors right behind her, not anywhere close to the entrance doors. She narrowed her eyes, and immediately, she swept them in front of her. Glancing at Harry, she picked out Ronald, and marched him to her office, most likely intending on scolding him. The rest of the Gryffindors followed them, wanting to get to the Common Room without any teachers.

Suddenly, Dumblemort ordered the Ravenclaws to go to their Tower without any fuss, or they would all get detentions. Professor Flitwick escorted them, while Professor Snape had to force Neville to come along with him to check up on Draco. Dumblemort was examining Harry, while Harry tried to think of an excuse, so that he could get away from Dumblemort. Being alone with him was not a good thing. However, it turned out that Harry didn't need to think of anything. Dumblemort simply spun around and headed back up to the castle, silent and, in Harry's opinion, dangerous.

Later in the Great Hall, at dinner, Harry just picked at his mashed potatoes. He didn't understand what had happened with Dumblemort that day, and he didn't know if he wanted to understand either. Harry was a bit hesitant to call up Griphook, as well, after Draco had suggested it. (Draco had just come out of the Hospital Wing with Neville, saying that it had only taken half an hour to heal his black eye.) He didn't want anyone to think that he was being a whiny little brat. Harry sighed; he was at a dilemma here. He pushed away his mashed potatoes; he wasn't hungry tonight.

The next day, Harry woke up early, because the Flying Lessons were a two-day process. The first day was usually about the basics of flying, and the do's-and-don'ts. The second day was usually when they got to fly around a bit, and if they were lucky, play a practice game of Quidditch, but not using the official balls. Instead they threw around golf balls, and for the bludgers, they used bean bags. After Harry and everyone else had landed, he listened with one ear as Madam Hooch went over the rules and the do's-and-don'ts once more.

All of a sudden, Harry's knees buckled, as a sharp needle-like pain shot through his head. Harry fell to the ground, his hands clutching his head in agony. He glanced around in a hazy blur of pain, wondering why everyone was so still. Harry had never liked his fame, but right now, he could surely use it. After all, why had no-one noticed that something was wrong? Harry tried to get Neville's attention. Surely Neville would help him get to the Hospital Wing, or better yet, the Ravenclaw dorm they stayed in. But Neville, as Harry looked up, was a statue like everyone else there. Harry tried to tug on his hand, but _his hand had gone through Neville's, as if Neville himself was just a projection._ Harry started to panic. "NEVILLE! Neville, can you hear me?"

His attempts were fruitless. Harry gasped, as another wave of agony washed over his head, mainly centered on his scar. He turned over onto his back, having already tried to relieve the pain by rubbing his forehead on the grass, which hadn't worked. Harry gazed at the bright blue sky. Or was it a dull white ceiling? Faces swam in and out of Harry's vision of the white ceiling; a brown, bushy-haired someone and a red-haired, freckle-faced, long-nosed person beside her, thin and lanky. Harry slowly succumbed to the darkness that had been growing on the edges of his vision, his hand thudding to his side, from his forehead, where he had been massaging his scar, only a few seconds ago.

AN: I hope you guys weren't too disappointed with this chapter. I'm saving the good stuff for later. Or, what I _think_ is the good stuff. It's really the reader's point of view. Thanks for reviewing, if you did, and thank you for voting on the poll that's on my profile. I appreciate that you guys are still waiting for this story; if I was the reader, I would've ditched it a long time ago. And I know this story was a bit cheesy, but well, give me a break. It's my first ever fanfic, and I haven't actually written a Harry Potter fanfics before. Well, I have, but I wrote it down, and I'm too lazy to look over it and type it up. Besides, I think that one was a failure. Thanks again for all your patience and support. See you next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422


	19. Chapter 18

AN: I know I'm updating two days in a row. I felt really bad about leaving you guys hanging. I appreciate that you're still around. I have made a YouTube account, so now you guys can also check out my videos. Just type in my name 'author422', and about the third video down is Let It Go by Tenth Avenue North~Lyrics. It does have my real name on there, but I don't want you posting on it on a review. If I want to make an impact on the world, I have to use the media, since that's what everyone's always on. :) On with the story! Oh, and I hope you liked my twist on the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Song: This Is War by 30 Seconds to Mars

Chapter 18- A New Revelation

"_Ronald! Don't wake him up; Madam Pomfrey said to let him rest," said a familiar-sounding voice. Another familiar voice replied, "Don't tell me what to do, Hermione. Besides, I wasn't waking him up, I was just checking to see if he wasn't dead!" There was a pin-drop silence. The first voice said shrilly, "Of course he isn't dead, Ronald, he's breathing! Honestly, even Professor Dumbledore said he would be alright." There was another moment of silence. The boy, Ronald, said angrily, "What were they thinking, having the Champions swim in the middle of February? The Black Lake was bound to be freezing! Harry could've died, and then where would we be? Harry's not supposed to die this year; he's supposed to die fighting Voldemort after marrying Ginny, and then we get all of his inheritance. I don't know what Professor Dumbledore is playing at. Wasn't this all his idea?"_

Harry mentally frowned. Everything was rushing back to him. It wasn't his first year; it was his fourth. He was a Triwizard Champion. His best friends were Ron and Hermione, not Neville and Draco. He was in Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw. The Dursleys were still horrible, and he didn't have his family manor hidden inside his trunk. He didn't have a portrait of his parents. Harry's eyes stung at that thought. He shoved that train of thought away for later. He focused on what else was different from his dream. And yes, Harry realized, that was all it was. It was just a dream. Somewhere in Harry's mind, however, told him that there might be something to the dream. Harry listened closely to what Ron and Hermione were saying.

_Hermione replied, "I know, Ron. But Professor Dumbledore knows best. Remember in first year, when he was friends with Longbottom and Malfoy? That was horrible. And he was Sorted into Ravenclaw! It was impossible for us to be friends with him, after that. And he didn't seem to like us at all, but I don't know how he could possibly know that, well, from his point of view, that we were the wrong type. There was also something funny about his trunk. Remember that funny little riddle on the back of it? '"To open the trunk, here's the key: What is silver, and cannot see?'" _

Harry almost gasped, but he caught himself in time. _That riddle was in his dream! _Harry grew worried. He was Sorted into Ravenclaw, friends with Draco and Neville… What if the trunk-manor-? Suddenly, Harry's head started to ache, and unconsciously, he groaned out loud, catching Ron and Hermione's attention. Harry wasn't paying any attention to them though, as they rushed to get Madam Pomfrey. His mind's eye was seeing memories of his first year, very fast, as though it was a slideshow. Harry caught snippets of information and conversation, as he watched it, shocked.

_Harry, Neville, and Draco were in a train compartment, the train being the Hogwarts Express. Golden light surrounded the trio, and streaks of twinkly light shot out from their hearts. _Harry_ watched the memory, and saw all of them collapse onto the compartment floor; he saw them sit up, and look at each other, confused. _Harry_ somehow knew in his heart that it was a bond of friendship, the exact bond of friendship that his father, Sirius, and Professor Lupin had made. Peter Pettigrew was a friend that had latched on in the middle of second year, he knew. _

_Another memory whooshed by. Professor McGonagall was lowering the Sorting Hat onto his head, and Harry once again heard the words that the infamous Sorting Hat uttered in his ear. 'Be careful around Dumblemort, Mr. Potter. He has a darker past than any of us could have ever dreamed of.' A few seconds later, _Harry_ heard the Sorting Hat shout out, "RAVENCLAW!" He saw the younger version of himself look thrilled, and smiled at him._

_The next memory showed the inside of Ollivander's shop. The younger Harry was picking out a fiery ruby, a phoenix feather with all Hogwarts colors, a fairy's wing, and a Hungarian Horntail scale, a talon of an eagle, a strand of griffin's tail hair, and a strand of unicorn tail hair. The older Harry saw Ollivander's surprised look. The older Harry had only a glimpse of the younger Harry picking out a destiny and protection rune, before he was abruptly shown another memory. _

_Harry immediately recognized the memory. It was the Flying Lessons, and when Harry reached the part where Dumbledore and his younger self were alone, Harry's head began to ache a bit. Harry grew furious and shocked though, when he saw Dumbledore perform a powerful Memory Charm on the younger Harry. The memory darkened after that, and Harry was shown one last memory._

_This one showed scenes of Harry, Neville, and Draco hanging out together, laughing and joking around, the way Harry's father and his friends used to. This memory made Harry sink to his knees, and weep, because he knew that he had had a rare and very special friendship with those two, and Dumbledore might've ruined that. Dumbledore must've interfered with the Dursleys as well, thought Harry sadly. Harry's brow furrowed, though, as he saw that the memory was doing something strange. The scenes of Harry, Draco, and Neville slowly twisted into one, long, thin string of color that formed itself into letters; letters that, in turn, formed words. _

_I am always by your side._

_Harry's eyes widened, as he took in the cryptic message engraved on the walls of his mind. Harry smiled; he still had hope. It seemed that Dumbledore could not take away his faith. Harry smiled even brighter. The Lord was by his side. Always. And Harry knew that with that in mind, he had lots of plans, and he would be able to do it. He had the chance to change everything. He could save his aunt, uncle, and cousin. He could get Sirius a trial. He could be re-Sorted into Ravenclaw once more. And, one of the most important things, he could save his friendship with Neville and Draco._

AN: There you go! Did you like it? By the way, this is the end of the first book. I shall be starting the sequel soon, and you can follow up to that. I thank you guys again for the support you given me, and if you don't like my story, you don't have to read it. Just saying, because a guest review said that I was a religious nut. Maybe I am, but I'm proud to be one. The world may or may not be on the brink of World War 3, and I'm going to hold on to my faith, because God is all I have. So please respect my decision, and I'll respect yours. If you don't like the story, why would you read it? Well, till next time!

Mischief Managed!

:) author422

**P.S. The sequel is now up!**


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